
Qass 

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CDEXRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



MEN AND WOMEN 
OF DEEP PIETY 



BY 



MRS. CLARA McLEISTER 




EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY 
REV E. E. SHELHAMER 



WESLEYAN METHODIST PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION 

SYRACUSE, N. Y. 

1920 



,1°° 



(Copyrighted, 1920, by the author.) 



MAy i 7 \m 



©CU570170 



'Vl f 



r 



INTRODUCTION 



ANOTHER new book? Yes, but a very inspiring one, and 
this justifies its publication. Biographical sketches of holy 
men and women come next to the Bible as a wholesome bill 
of fare for those who desire spiritual food. Here we get new 
visions and possibilities in the kingdom of grace. Here we 
take on courage and strength as we behold soldiers battling 
in the great arena of life. Here we are silently rebuked as we 
view the self-sacrifice of those who counted not their lives dear 
unto themselves that they might win Christ and bless human- 
ity. Yes, the reading after eminent saints will broaden, 
deepen and enrich any soul who will take time to do so. 

The writer has known Sister McLeister, the compiler of 
this volume, for years, and we consider her well qualified for 
the great task of selecting matter for such a book. At her 
request we have undertaken its publication. It has been a. 
means of spiritual profit, though a great task to condense 
and edit the copy so as to reduce it to its present size, and yet 
not do violence to the general thought contained in each sketch. 
While we have furnished some of the matter found herein, the 
selection of that of our sainted companion was wholly on the 
part of the author. However, we consider it a valuable asset 
to the book. 

The exhorbitant high cost of printing and making of new 
cuts from old pictures renders it impossible to sell the book as 
cheaply as before the war. Nevertheless, we feel sure that 
those who purchase and read this volume will be well repaid 
for the investment. We bespeak for it a wide circulation, and 
for any good that is accomplished our God shall have all the 

^^°'^- E. E. SHELHAMER, 

January, 1 , 1 920. Harrisburg, Pa. 



PREFACE 



CHRISTIAN biography is inspiring and stimulating. 
Wills are strengthened, sluggish emotions are aroused, 
fuel is added to devotion's flame, and the clay becomes more 
plastic in the Master Potter's hands. 

To write brief sketches of pious women was the author's 
first design. This to her seemed an unassuming way of be- 
coming a blessing to her sisters in the Lord who, having many 
cares and perplexities, hear much more frequently of holy men 
and their achievements than of pious, successful mothers and 
hand-maidens of the Lord. It was at the request of the pub- 
lisher that the writing of sketches of holy men was also under- 
taken and included in the volume. The field is wide, and it is 
a task to bring the materials within the compass of one book 
without too greatly diminishing their interest and value. 

The labor involved in gleaning from many sources has 
had its reward in enriching the author's mental and soul life. 
The heavenly Boaz bade the reapers let some handfuls fall 
purposely for her. Her part in the work of the pastorate, to- 
gether with the duties of a wife and mother, have necessarily 
claimed first attention. But during ten happy years, gathering 
up fragments of time lest they be wasted, she has pursued her 
design, and now desires to share with others, in this concen- 
trated form, some of the honey, wine and oil thus stored. 

The sources from which we have obtained our information 
have been many and varied, ranging through biography, auto- 
biography, memoirs, letters, diaries, encyclopedias, and re- 

5 



6 Preface 

ligious papers and magazines. It would have added but lit- 
tle to the interest of most of our readers had each author and 
quotation been listed. Hence we merely indicate a verbatim 
transcript by quotation marks. We humbly acknowledge our 
indebtedness to these worthy scribes. 

We owe a special debt of gratitude to Rev. E. E. Shel- 
hamer who, as a father in the Gospel, so kindly encouraged us 
in this work and undertook the publishing of it. He has very 
helpfully criticised our manuscripts, and abridged them for 
publication, and in addition has contributed several original 
sketches. His many fruitful years of labor, as author and 
evangelist, his holy and unblameable life, his magnanimity of 
soul, and his God-given insight into human character, lend 
special weight and value to whatever passes through his hands. 
We realize that the value of the book has been very much in- 
creased by his practical co-operation. 

Let us approach holy lives reverently and, drawing aside 
the curtain to study the secrets of their success and power, may 
the Holy Spirit breathe upon our hearts, and transform us more 
perfectly into the image of God's dear Son. 

If these pages become blest to the awakening of sinners 
and the edifying of the body of Christ, may all the glory be 
ascribed to Him "who gave Himself for us, that He might 
redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a pecu- 
liar people." 

MRS. CLARA McLEISTER. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction 
Preface 

a Kempis, Thomas 
Augustine, St. 
Asbury, Francis 
Booth, Catherine 
Bray, Billy . 
Bramwell, William 
Brainerd, David 
Bunyan, John 
Cary, William 
Clarke, Adam 
Chrysostom, John 
Carvosso, William 
Chadwick, Grace E. 
Caughey, James 
Cowper, William 
Crosby, Fanny 
Cartwright, Peter . 
Cutler, Anne 
Edwards, Jonathan 
Fenelon, Francois 
Finney, Charles G. 
Fletcher, Mary Bosanquet 



Page 
3 

5 

9 

12 

14 

26 

40 

47 

51 

67 

81 

91 

95 

99 

107 

111 

119 

125 

131 

141 

145 

151 

155 

179 



8 


Contents 








Page 


Fletcher, John . . . . . . .187 


Fox, George 








. 203 


Guyon, Madam 








. 209 


Havergal, Frances Ridley 








. 219 


Huntingdon, Selina Shirley 








. 227 


Huss, John . 








. 232 


Inskip, John 










. 236 


Johnson, Lizzie 










. 246 


Judson, Adoniram 






. 


. 


. 249 


Knox, John . 










. 267 


Luther, Martin 










. 273 


Livingstone, David 










. 303 


Muller, George 










. 321 


Moody, Dwight Lyman 










•. 324 


Moffat, Robert 


. 






. 


. 336 


Newton, John 










. 342 


Nightengale, Florence 










. 344 


Origen 










. 347 


Palmer, Mrs. Phoebe 










. 350 


Pollok, Robert 










. 354 


Redfield, John 










. 360 


Ramabai, Pundita 










. 366 


Rogers, Hester Ann 










. 373 


Smith, Amanda 










. 384 


Shelhamer, Minnie B. 










. . 398 


Trudel, Dorothea . 










. 412 


Taylor, James Hudson 










. 418 


Wesley, Susanna . 










. 432 


Wesley, John 










. 440 


Wliitefield, George 










. 478 


Willard, Frances E. 










. 486 


Whittemore, Mrs. E. M 










. 496 


Wilberforce, William 










. 508 



THOMAS A' KEMPIS 



THE Imitation of Christ, translated into more languages 
than any other book except the Bible, abounds in maxims 
of humility and resignation, and is such a book as any devout 
soul may read with profit, may study and re-read with greater 
profit, and may well make it a daily guide in holy living. It 
has been universally read, eind has moved the hearts of men of 
all nations, conditions and creeds. "A book which can inter- 
est and awaken minds so varied and opposed, and which has 
been throughout the ages the consolation of men of the great- 
est genius, as well as of those of the smallest capacity, and the 
lowest ambition, must be a work of priceless value." Its use- 
fulness, spirituality, and popularity with devout Christians is 
unabated, though almost five centuries have elapsed since a 
pious German monk composed its epigrammatic sentences in his 
humble cell. The ardent religious passion of the author per- 
meates its simple and direct advices, and is contagious as the 
honest pilgrim on the way to heaven prayerfully peruses its 
pages. It was originally written in Latin. 

Its authorship has been a matter of debate, but to Thomas 
Haemmerlein, a resident of the town of Kempen, on the Rhine, 
in Germany, is the honor most universally accorded. He is 
known as Thomas a' Kempis, indicating his birthplace. He 
was born in 1380 and died in 1471. His father was a poor 
man. The son was studious and pious. He became sub-prior 
and instructor in the monastery of Mount St. Agnes, in the 

9 



10 Men and Women qf Deep Piety 

diocese of Utrecht, and there he remained until the close of his 
long and uneventful life. He gave himself to teaching, to copy- 
ing manuscripts, reading and composition, and the quiet routine 
of monastic life. He excelled in real piety the great swarm of 
priests and monks who in those dark centuries were a plague to 
all Europe. We cannot agree with his extreme asceticism, 
considered meritorious by the Catholic church of which he was 
a member, but the simplicity of life and humble faith taught 
by the pure pages of his book commend themselves to the holy 
Christian as being Biblical, and sure way-marks of the highway 
of holiness. 

We recommend the Imitation of Christ, by Kempis, to all 
our readers, and here transcribe briefly from its illuminated 
pages : 

"He who knows himself well becomes vile in his own sight, 
and can take no delight in the praises of men." 

"Learned men are apt to wish to make a display of their 
learning, and to be spoken of as talented." 

"It is vanity to seek honors, and to strive for high posi- 
tions." 

"Strive therefore to withdraw your heart from the love of 
visible things, and to transfer your affections to things invisible; 
for if you follow your sensual inclinations, you will stain your 
conscience and lose the grace of God." 

"It is vanity, therefore, to seek riches, and to trust in that 
which is perishable." 

"The more humble a man is in himself, and the more sub- 
missive to God, the more prudent and peaceful will he always 
become." 

"The Bible ought always to be read with the assistance 
of the same Spirit by whose agency it was written." 

"If you wish to derive profit, read with lowliness, sim- 



Thomas a' Kempis 1 1 

plicity and faith, and never covet a reputation for learning.'* 

"Associate with the humble and simple-minded, with the 
devout and well-behaved; and talk on edifying matters." 

"It is safer to listen, and take advice, than to give it to 
others." 

"If you keep up the habit of retiring for prayer, you will 
find it sweet; but if it is irregularly done, a distaste for it will 
be the result." 

"In silence and quiet the devout soul advances, and learns 
the hidden things of Scripture." 

"Happy is the man who renounces everything which may 
bring a stain or burden upon his conscience." 

"Do not busy yourself in others* concerns, nor entangle 
yourself in the affairs of the great." 

"Let nothing be high, nothing great, nothing pleasing, 
nothing acceptable to you, except God Himself, or what is of 
God." 

"A spiritually-minded man puts the care of his own soul 
before all other concerns. And he who diligently attends to 
himself is easily silent about others." 

"God walks with the simple; He reveals Himself to the 
lowly; He gives understanding to little ones; He discloses His 
meaning to pure minds, and hides His grace from the curious 
and proud." 



ST. AUGUSTINE 



AURELIUS AUGUSTINE, better known as St. Augus^ 
tine, was born of poor parents in the small town of Tha- 
gaste, Numidia, in the north of Africa, in the year 354. His 
father, a dissolute pagan, was converted to Christianity before 
his death. His mother, Monnica, is revered as one of the 
most holy and devoted women in the history of the Christian 
Church. Until her son's conversion, she never ceased to pray 
earnestly and labor faithfully for his salvation. 

But the case looked hopeless. Christianity was in its in- 
fancy. Pagemism reigned about them. He was sent to Car- 
thage for a better education, but instead of applying himself 
closely to his studies, joined the fast set and led a dissolute life. 
For fourteen years he lived with a woman out of wedlock. He 
took up the study of philosophy, and joined the heretical sect 
known as the Manichaeans. His university career was brilliant 
in spite of his dissipations, and at its close he became a teacher 
in his native town, also at Carthage and Rome. The preach- 
ing of Ambrose, and the reading of Paul's epistles, led him to 
Christ. He renounced Manichaeism, and was baptized, when 
in his thirty-third year. He returned to Carthage, sold his es- 
tates, and gave almost all the proceeds to the poor. He then 
renounced his profession and became an ascetic, giving himself 
to the study eind service of religion. 

The Catholic church was in its infancy, and not yet so 
corrupted as later, when it became wealthy and powerful. The 

12 



Saint Augustine 1 3 

people of Hippo desired him to assist their Bishop, which he 
did, and later became their Bishop. Entering upon this office 
in the year 395, he filled it most worthily for thirty-five years. 
He became one of the most distinguished ecclesiastical figures 
of his time, the care of his diocese and the writing of his books 
chiefly occupying his time. His two most important books are 
"The City of God" and "Confessions.'* The latter is largely 
auto-biographical, full of repentance for his past misdeeds, and 
inspiring adoration and service to his new Lord and Master. 

Though highly exalted by his prominent position in the 
eyes of men, yet he continued to lead a life of extreme sim- 
plicity and self-denial, ever a rebuke to luxury and glittering 
show. The charm and sweetness of his disposition, as well as 
his intellectual ascendancy, gave him a wide influence with 
young men, many of whom he gathered under his own roof 
and trained for the ministry. He is said to have had the keen- 
est metaphysical mind of that age. 

"He died August 28, 430. He was a man of great en- 
thusiasm, self-devotion, zeal for truth, and powerful intellect, 
and though there have been fathers of the church more learned, 
none have wielded a more powerful influence." His immor- 
tal writings numbered ten hundred and thirty distinct produc- 
tions. 



FRANCIS ASBURY 



COMING to this country when there were only a few 
scattered settlements along the Atlantic coast, piercing 
the tractless wilds, fording streams, often drenched with rain, 
scaling the mountains, braving dangers from wild beasts and 
skulking Indians, tormented by ticks and mosquitoes, having 
no earthly possessions but the well-worn clothes upon his back 
and a few books, etc., in his saddle-bags, sleeping under the 
canopy of Heaven with a stone or his saddle-bags for his pil- 
low in the comfortless forest, or lodging five or six hours in 
the rude cabin of a hospitable pioneer, after having traveled 
all day and half of the night, preaching at every settlement or 
secluded home that came in the ever-widening path of his itin- 
eracy, the name of Francis Asbury became revered, and his 
ministry fruitful from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, and from 
Canada to the Gulf. 

In those early days, the Allegheny Mountains were the al- 
most impassable western border, beyond which only the most 
daring settlers migrated. Across these snow-capped mountains, 
sometimes riding, sometimes leading his weary horse, Asbury 
traveled about sixty times. Even when he had to be lifted 
in and out of his saddle, his feet swollen with rheumatism from 
constant exposure, he continued traveling his rounds of the 
growing connection, an itineracy of 6,000 miles or more per 
year. His meals often consisted of game hunted in the woods 
and cooked over his camp-fire. Uncomplainingly he endured 

14 




Francis Asbury 



Francis Asbury 1 7 

hunger, thirst, untold hardships, the daily care of the churches, 
as well as the censures and criticisms of uncharitable brethren. 

For fifty years he thus devoted his strength, time and tal- 
ents with unparalleled zeal to spreading Scriptural Holiness 
over these lands. 

More than any other man, he projected his personality, 
views and doctrine far into the future of American Methodism, 
of which he is rightly considered the father and founder. 

He was born in Staffordshire, England, August 20, 1 745. 
His parents were of the middle class, in comfortable circum.- 
stances, religious, amiable and industrious. Francis availed 
himself of the opportunity to obtain a fair education, enduring 
with much patience the cruelty of an unreasonable school- 
master. 

The distinguishing traits which appeared in his childhood 
forecast a life of usefulness and piety. He began reading the 
Bible in his seventh year, and gave time to prayer each morn- 
ing and evening. The simplicity of his child-like faith was 
rewarded by the blessing of the Lord upon him. He seems 
never to have departed from that early devotion to the Lord. 
The vanity and frivolity of one family in which he stayed a 
while he considered detrimental to his spiritual advancement, 
and was glad when the time came to return to his father's 
house. 

Hearing of the Methodists, a sect which was everywhere 
spoken against, he was pleasantly surprised when he attended 
one of their services, held in a private house. Here he found 
such primitive simplicity as delighted his devout soul. The at- 
mosphere was heavenly, the extemporaneous preaching full of 
fire and unction of the Holy Ghost, the singing, without musi- 
cal instrument, made melody to the Lord. Thenceforward they 
were his people, and he grew in grace as he took part in the 



18 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

class-meetings and held prayer services in various homes. When 
persecution closed other doors, he held services in his father's 
house, at which times his fervent exhortations moved many 
hearts to repentance. 

"After traveling circuits for about five years he attended 
the conference held at Bristol on the 7th of August, 1771. 
He was now in the twenty-sixth year of his age, and had been 
engaged in the work of the ministry for nine or ten years. He 
had acquired a standing in the conference which commended 
him to the confidence and esteem of all his brethren. He had 
for some time been strongly impressed with a desire to go as a 
missionary to America. The more he thought and prayed 
about it the more deep and powerful became the conviction. 
He was subjected to sore trials, and called upon to pass 
through a severer discipline of affliction than he had experienced 
before in his ministerial life. The Lord was evidently pre- 
paring him by this discipline for the great undertaking he had 
in mind. When, at this conference, Mr. Wesley called for 
volunteers for the work in America, among the first that re- 
sponded was Francis Asbury." 

Visiting the scenes of his previous labors, and taking an 
affectionate farewell of his aging parents, who never again saw 
their only son, he embarked for America, accompanied by 
Richard Wright. 

After a voyage of eight weeks, during which many hard- 
ships and privations were endured, he landed at Philadelphia. 
During the previous five years the labors of Pilmoor, Board- 
man, Embury, Webb and Strawbridge had been very fruit- 
ful. With working forces now augmented, they thanked God, 
and took courage. 

The early revivals under Whitefield, the Tennents, and 
others had waned, mostly because of the growing dissatisfac- 



Francis Asbury 19 

tion of the colonists with the arbitrary rule of Englsuid. Vari- 
ous denominations already had begun work in this land of prom- 
ise. The first Methodist Society was organized in New York 
City in 1 766, under the labors of Phillip Embury. 

Asbury resolved to be an itinerant in every sense of the 
word. He objected to pastors settling in a town, preaching 
only two or three times a week, and making no attempt to 
carry the Gospel to unreached settlements. Always on the 
move, preaching two or three times a day, the early Methodist 
preachers were truly itinerants. Their salaries were usually 
about sixty-five dollars per year. Accordingly many of them 
did not marry, not being able to support a family. Later the 
salary was increased a little if the minister married. 

Francis Asbury never married. This was not because he 

lacked in sympathy or kindliness of heart. As Jesus often 
found a warm welcome in the home of Martha and Mary 
from public life, so Asbury, after his long, exacting trips in all 
kinds of exposure, was refreshed by brief rests in the comfort- 
able homes of some of his loyal eastern friends, who counted 
it a privilege to thus serve the Lord by ministering to one of 
His saints. 

His life being threatened by some who considered him an 
enemy of the cause of independence, he spent several months in 
seclusion in the home of Judge White of Kent County, Dela- 
ware, during the Revolutionary War. 

At first American Methodism was under the supervision 
of John Wesley, and was connected with English Methodism. 
He sent over missionaries, and appointed Asbury and Coke as 
traveling superintendents. Coke never confined his labors to 
this country, though he was very useful in shaping the early 
polity of the church. He finally returned to England, mar- 



20 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ried, and rather late in life started as a missionary to the East 
Indies. He died on the way, and was buried at sea. 

There being no preachers episcopally ordained, the early 
Methodists went to Episcopalian services for the Lord's Sup- 
per. As the societies multiplied all over the colonies, the dis- 
satisfaction with this arrangement spread, until there was seri- 
ous possibility of a split in the denomination. Wesley had not 
yet formally separated from the Established Church, and de- 
sired that the same plan be continued in America. Not resid- 
ing here, he was not able to sense so well the American spirit 
as did Asbury. The wisdom and grace of the latter was ef- 
fectual in calming the troubled waters, until finally, after he 
had preached and labored in America fifteen years, he was 
ordained by Coke, under commission from Wesley, as Super- 
intendent of the Methodist Church of America. 

After the war the union with the English body was dis- 
solved, the episcopal form of church government was adopted, 
and Methodism ordained its own ministers. 

Asbury often labored under the extra burden of illnes* 
His later years were full of physical suffering. Finally, he 
used a primitive buggy, called a wagon, where the roads wer? 
passable. His mountain trips were made on foot or horseback. 

"During this year (1 774) he suffered much from sickness, 
and for many days was closely confined; but notssithstanding 
his illness, he preached three hundred times, and rode two 
thousand miles on horseback." When visiting the warm sul- 
phur springs in Virginia for his health, he occupied his time of 
recuperation in the following way: read one hundred pages a 
day, prayed in public five times a day, preached in the open 
air every other day, and lectured in prayer-meeting every other 
evening. How many ministers of the present day make as good 
use of their vacations? 



Francis Asbury 21 

"Frequently, when benighted in the wilderness, he slept on 
the ground, or on rocks, or on some boards in a deserted cabin. 
with nothing to eat. 

"The first day he rode upward of thirty miles without tak* 
ing a morsel of food, but like his houseless and homeless Mas- 
ter, he murmured not. 

"During the two weeks succeeding conference, Asbury 
traveled through Maryland and Pennsylvania, a distance of 
between two and three hundred miles, crossing the mountams 
on foot, and preaching seventeen times in the woods and cabins 
to the widely-scattered inhabitants. 

"From Ellis's, Asbury started out on his tour, and crossed 
the mountains, directing his course toward Redstone. Passing 
Little Meadows, he took the Braddock Road, a rough and 
dangerous way. Finding no accommodations, and being much 
exhausted by the journey, he was attacked by a fever, and suf- 
fered much, but still rode on, preaching the next day.'* 

"Bishop Asbury was one of those very few men whom na- 
ture forms in no ordinary mold. His mind was stamped with 
a certain greatness and originality which lifted him far above 
the merely learned man, and fitted him to be great without sci" 
ence, and venerable without titles. His knowledge of men was 
profound and penetrating; hence he looked into character as 
one looks into a clear stream in order to discover the bottom. 
He seemed conscious that God had designed him for a great 
work, and nothing was wanting on his part to fulfill the inten- 
tion of Providence. Like a moral Caesar, he thought nothing 
done while anything remained to do. He pursued the most 
difficult and laborious course as most men do their pleasures. 

"His was the solemnity of an apostle; it was so interwoven 
with his conduct that he could not put off the gravity of the 
bishop either in the parlor or dining-room. 



22 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"He had stated hours of retirement and prayer, upon which 
he let neither business or company break in. Prayer was the 
seasoning of all his avocations. Divine wisdom seemed to di- 
rect all his undertakings. The plan by which he directed all 
his affairs was as regular as the movements of a time-piece. 

"The secret of Asbury's success as a student consisted in 
his rigid adherence to a systematic method; and it is rarely, if 
ever, that anyone excels who does not adopt and adhere to a 
systematic course of study. Discipline is everything to body 
and mind, and the most insurmountable difficulties are over- 
come by patient endeavor. To labor and to wait may be a 
difficult task for the impulsive and ambitious to learn; but 
there is no royal road, no patent-righted, labor-saving way to 
profound attainment in any department of learning. His 
method, when not traveling, was to rise at four o'clock every 
morning, spend two hours in prayer and meditation, two hours 
in reading and study, and one in recreation and conversation. 
Ten hours out of sixteen were spent in reading the Hebrew 
Bible and other books, and writing. He retired to his room 
at eight o'clock when not a meeting or in council, and spent 
an hour in meditation and prayer before retiring to rest." Even 
when traveling he read from fifty to sixty pages a day, and 
studied the Scriptures in their original languages." 

"His salary was only sixty-four dollars a year and his 
traveling expenses — about as much as one of the city preachers 
of the present day would get for delivering a lecture in an ad- 
joining town. Often have the clothes of Asbury becom^e 
threadbare and shabby. Besides, he had to look after the 
poor preachers and the missionaries he had sent out to the 
frontier settlements in the west. He often impoverished him- 
self to relieve their wants. At one time we find him with only 
two dollars in the world, and his poor preachers ragged and 



Francis Asbury 23 

destitute. First his little purse was drained, and then followed 
his cloak, and watch and shirt. 

"Asbury was subject at times to great seasons of dejection 
of mind, and his spirit would often sink within him. His 
easons of gloom, especially after preaching, were sometimes 
ierrific. Yet he enjoyed remarkable manifestations of Divine 
power in his ministry of the Word, and everywhere souls were 
saved and edified. It is a fact that many men, successful in 
the Lord's work, or other strenuous labors, have had to bat- 
tle against melancholy. This is most likely due to the reaction 
of an overworked nervous system. Nature demands relaxation 
after an extraordinary expenditure of spiritual, mental and 
physical energy. And who has found any vocation which so 
drains the nervous energies as public speaking, especially when 
the heart is consumed with passion for the salvation of immor- 
tal souls." 

At such times, the most religious thing to do is to rest, 
quietly as possible. The Lord will renew courage and physical 
strength as He did for Elijah. 

The question of slavery caused violent agitation in the 
church as well as the nation. To guide the church ship aright 
on such stormy seas was not the least of Asbury's cares. At 
different times the church legislated against slavery, but it was 
a very complicated matter to handle, and gradually the reins 
were relaxed. It was the cause of the separation of the "Wes- 
leyan Methodists" from the parent body. 

He scattered Bibles, tracts and religious literature wher- 
ever he went. He established a fund for the relief of needy 
preachers and superannuates. 

Those were days of mighty camp-meetings. People came 
for many miles, providing their own shelter and food. Out in 
the woods, lit up by numerous camp-fires, the fearless proclaim- 



24 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ing of all the counsel of God brought the result of as many as 
four hundred conversions at a single camp. It was a prolific 
means of spreading the truth and opening new churches. 

"They did not, like many Methodists of the present day, 
take the cars in the morning, and, whirled along at the rate of 
thirty miles an hour, reach the encampment in tim^e to hear the 
eleven o'clock sermon, take dinner at a boarding tent, and re- 
turn in the evening, wondering that they had received no spir- 
itual benefit. Had they done so, camp-meetings would not 
have been attended with the po^\'er that characterized them. 
But they closed up business at home, and made all their ar- 
rangements to spend a week at the feast of tabernacles, devot- 
ing themselves exclusively to the worship of God, and the re- 
sult was invariably an increase in spirituality in the hearts of 
the members and the conversion of their children. The great 
wonder is not now that so fe^v are converted at our modern 
camp-meetings, but that an]) are converted. This, however, 
must be attributed to the fact that there are some who act upon 
the primitive plan of going prepared, and determined to remain 
during the continuance of the meeting." 

"Forty-five years of incessant toil in cities and villages, and 
in the log-cabins and \\ildernesses of the west and south, trav~ 
eling the round of the continent with but few exceptions every 
year, subject to every kind of itinerant hardship and privation, 
bore heavily upon his physical condition, and we find him, as 
if impelled by a ruling passion strong as life, and undismayed 
by the approach of death, urging his weary way from appoint- 
ment to appointment." 

A companion usually accompanied him in his most difficult 
travels of his last years. Sometimes he had to be lifted to and 
from the saddle. 

Taking farewell of his friends in Richmond, he started to 



Francis Asbury 25 

Baltimore, but his illness compelled him to halt at the home of 
an old friend, Mr. George Arnold, of Fredericksburg, in Vir- 
ginia. 

"When Sabbath came, he requested the family to be called 
together at the usual hour for religious services. His traveling 
companion read and expounded the twenty-first chapter of Rev- 
elation, during which time Asbury was calm and devotional. 
His end was near, and his faith doubtless enabled him to catch 
a glimpse of the holy city which John saw coming down out of 
Heaven. The sun of his life was declining, but there were no 
clouds in the evening heavens. All was calm and clear and 
bright. 

Bond, perceiving that the venerable bishop was sinking in 
his chair, hastened to support him, and while he held up his re- 
clining head the spirit of the patriarch passed away in peace 
to its God, and thus, 

'Like some broad river widening toward the sea, 
Calmily and grandly life joined eternity.' " 

His memory is embalmed in the history of Methodism, and 
his works do follow him. 



MRS. CATHERINE BOOTH 



CATHERINE MUMFORD was born at Ashbourne, in 
Derbyshire, England, on January 1 7, 1 829. Only one 
of her four brothers survived infancy, and was the sole com- 
panion of her childhood. Mrs. Mumford feared the con- 
taminating influence of other children, and so was very strict 
in keeping her daughter with herself. Was she not wise? And 
did she not thereby protect her child from poisonous undoing 
of home training? Too often home is merely a shelter from 
bad weather, and a convenient boarding place to children, 
while they are permitted tp receive tradning from most every 
source but the right one. 

The example and teaching of such a mother produced 
gratifying results in the daughter. Catherine's earliest lessons 
were from the Bible, and before she was twelve years old she 
had read the sacred volume through eight times. Her famil- 
iarity with the Scriptures, and facility in using them, was one 
secret of her great power in the pulpit later. 

Her father took an active part in the Temperance cam- 
paign. She became much interested, and entered with spirit 
into the arguments upon the subject. In the privacy of her 
own room she wrote manuscripts to various magazines, signing 
some nom de plume, lest they would be rejected if it were 
known that a child had written them. 

"If I were asked for the main characteristics that have 
helped me through life, I should give a high place to the sense 

26 




Mrs. Catherine Booth 



William Booth 



Mrs. Catherine Booth 29 

of responsibility which I have felt from my earliest days in 
regard to everybody who came in any way under my influence. 
The fact that I was not held responsible was no relief at all. 
'Why trouble? It is not your affair!' friends constantly say 
to me even now. But how can I help troubling when I see 
people go wrong?'* 

"Her warm sympathy for man and beast was often in evi- 
dence. While running along the road with hoop and stick, 
she saw a drunkard being dragged to the lock-up by a con- 
stable. A jeering mob was hooting the culprit. His utter 
loneliness appealed powerfully to her. It seemed that he had 
not a friend in the world. Quick as lightning Catherine 
sprang to his side and marched down the street with him, de- 
termined that he should feel that there was at least one heart 
that sympathized with him, whether it might be for his fault 
or his misfortune that he was suffering. The knight-errant 
spirit which she manifested when as a mere child she threw 
down the gauntlet to the mocking crowd, and dared to take 
the part of the lonely, hustled criminal, was peculiarly typical 
of the woman who afterward stood by the side of her hus- 
band, helping him to face the scorn of his day and generation, 
until unitedly, with character vindicated and name blessed, 
they had climbed to a position of successful achievement unique 
in the history of the world." 

For two years she was permitted to attend a boarding 
school. She delighted in acquiring knowledge, but was never 
so selfish in her ambitions as to tread unkindly upon the feel- 
ings of her classmates. She was always ready to assist the 
dull or slow. She was known as strictly truthful, not even in- 
dulging in exaggeration. Her health broke down, so that she 
was compelled to give up her much-loved school work. She 
lay for three years afflicted with spinal trouble. For seven 



30 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

months at a time she had to lie on her face on a special couch 
made for her. But even then she invented a contrivance by 
which she could read her Bible and other good books. She 
would not permit her mind to be a mere seive. She trained 
her memory by writing what she had read after she had fin- 
ished a chapter. "Being so much alone in my youth, and so 
thrown on my own thoughts, and on those expressed in books, 
has been very helpful to me. Had I been given to gossip, 
and had there been people for me to gossip with, I should cer- 
tainly never have accomplished what I did." 

In her early teens, a close intimacy with her cousin ripened 
into warm a]ff^ection, and he desired her to be engaged to him. 
But while he was respectful in religion, yet she discerned that 
it was only on her account, and that his life was not governed 
by a fixed principle to please God. After a long struggle she 
wrote him plainly, breaking off all connection with him. Foi 
this she had much reason to be thankful in later years. "Look 
before you leap" is ever good advice in guarding the heart's 
affections. Do not suffer yourself to "fall in love." At least, 
choose well before-hand the place of falling, for in the choice 
of a life-companion one usually makes or unmakes his or her 
future happiness and usefulness. Oh, that young women would 
despise the hope of reforming a man after marriage! Let 
them scorn to love any unless he first love God with all his 
heart. Oh, that Christian young men, and especially those en- 
tering or planning to enter the ministry, were so fully conse- 
crated that in this most important choice they were led of God! 
Not all saved young women are soul-winners; not all have 
awakened to life's greatest calling — co-working in reconciling 
a lost world to God. Much depends upon a minister's wife. 
She is to be an example to the flock in personal appearance, 
in home-keeping, in training the children, in sacrificing for Je- 



Mrs. Catherine Booth 31 

sus' sake. Moreover, she should be one fitted by grace and 
gifts to minister in holy things, in the Sabbath-school, in prayer 
and class-meetings. She should be worthy of confidence, and 
able to help all classes. She should be pre-eminently a woman 
of prayer, whose highest ambition is to honor God, and help 
garner as many sheaves as possible before the great Harvest 
Home. Not all professedly good young women are thus 
qualified. Perhaps more would be if they coveted earnestly 
the best gifts. 

When about fifteen years old, she longed for the definite 
witness that she was saved. Though she had always been de- 
vout and scrupulous, yet she felt the need of regeneration. For 
six weeks she wrestled with God, often late into the night. 
One morning as she awoke, taking her Bible and hymn-book 
from under her pillow, she read: 

"My God, I am Thine, what a comfort Divine, 
What a blessing to know that my Jesus is mine." 

These words came with new power to her soul. She now 
possessed what she had been seeking all these weeks — the as- 
surance of salvation. Her whole soul was filled with light 
and joy. She ran to her mother's room and told her all about 
it. They rejoiced together. 

She was timid and nervous at first in public meetings, but 
the wise leader would call upon her to pray and wait for her 
response. "You must break through your timidity; for other- 
wise you will be of no use to God,*' said the leader. 

She began teaching a Bible Class, and in this service she 
grew in grace and ability. She practiced self-denial by doing 
without dinner, and butter for breakfast one day in the week. 

At one of the regular services she heard young William 
Booth preach. He was a promising young Methodist preacher. 



32 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

well saved, and aglow with holy zeal. Their acquaintance 
matured, and their hearts became one. Their engagement of 
three years was marked with devotion to the Lord and inciting 
each other to holier living. She wrote, "The more you lead 
me up to Christ in all things, the more highly shall I esteem 
you, and if it be possible to love you more than I now do, the 
more shall I love you. Be happy about me. God lives, and 
I feel safe in His hands. Let us try to live according to our 
professed belief, and be careful for nothing. Bless you!'* 
Their heaven-approved union was consummated June 1 6, 
1855. He was now in evangelistic work, and his labors 
widely known as very fruitful. In the space of four months, 
1,739 persons had sought salvation at nine different places. 
She now traveled with him. 

A neighboring pastor wrote a pamphlet against women 
preaching. Though Mrs. Booth did not then preach, she was 
convinced that God had reserved the privilege of calling a 
woman to preach if He saw best. She wrote a reply, which 
was widely circulated. We quote briefly from it: 

**As to the obligation devolving upon woman to labor for 
her Master, I presume there will be no controversy. The par- 
ticular sphere in which each individual shall do this must be 
dictated by the teachings of the Holy Spirit and the gifts with 
which God has endowed her. If she have the necessary gifts, 
and feels herself called by the Spirit to preach, there is not a 
single word in the whole book of God to restrain her, but 
many, very many, to encourage her. God says she shall do 
so, and Paul described the manner in which she shall do it, 
and Phoebe, Junia, and Philip's four daughters, and many 
other .women, actually did preach and speak in the primitive 
churches. If this had not been the case there would have been 
less freedom under the new dispensation than under the old. 



Mrs. Catherine Booth 33 

Mrs. Booth was the mother of four children, the oldest 
being four years and three months old, when she began 
preaching. She had for some time felt the call upon her, but 
she was timid; there was such deep-rooted prejudice agcdnst 
a woman praying or testifying in public, much less leading a 
public meeting or preaching, that she let time slip on without 
entering upon it. During an illness the Lord made His will 
clear, and she promised to delay no more. About three 
months later, after her husband had preached to more than a 
thousand hearers, as the testimonies proceeded the Spirit came 
upon her, and she felt impelled to speak. She held bc^ck a 
little, when she was reminded of her vow. The devil said, 
**You are not prepared. You will look like a fool, and have 
nothing to say." He made a mistake. He over-reached him- 
self for once. "Ah," said she, "this is just the point. I have 
never yet been willing to be a fool for Christ. Now I vyill be 
one." She arose, and to the surprise of the congregation, and 
also of her husband, who had hitherto urged her in vain to 
speak in public, she stated her call, and confessed her slack- 
ness to obey. Many hearts were made tender, and a general 
interest awakened. Mr. Booth at once announced that she 
would speak again at the evening service. "The chapel pre- 
sented a never-to-be-forgotten scene that evening. It was 
crowded to the doors, and the people sat upon the very win- 
dow-sills. The audience was spellbound as they' listened to 
her words. 

Mr. Booth felt the masses of London strongly appeal to 
him, and in devoting himself to them the Salvation Army was 
born and cradled. The poor heard them gladly, and the 
work grew rapidly. The ministry of Mrs. Booth was well re- 
ceived by the better classes, and their contributions helped much 
in prosecuting the work among the poor. However, she made 



34 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

no difference in her messages to please the rich. She faith- 
fully denounced their sins, invited them to public confessions 
of need, and to seek the Savior. **I used to tremble some- 
times as I listened," said her daughter, Emma. "Now they 
will be offended, and will never come again, I thought to my- 
self. And sometimes I would venture to expostulate, as we 
went home together: *I think, mamma, you were a little too 
heavy on them today.' 'Aye, you are like the rest of them,* 
she would say, 'pleading for the syrup without the sulphur. I 
guessed that you were feeling so.* But when the time for the 
next meeting arrived the same people would be there, and the 
crowd would be larger than ever, and the rows of carriages 
outside the hall more numerous, and she would pour out her 
heart upon them, and drag out the sins and selfish indulgences 
of society, with all their attendant miseries and penalties, aa 
merciless as ever.** 

But she was loved by all classes, and as they visited her 
in her home all felt the tender warmth of her great sympathy. 
This passion of soul throbbed unceasingly within her, and kept 
her pouring out her heart's affection and her strength, when 
many a woman of her weak frame would be nursing herself as 
an invalid. She was scarcely ever free from pain, always had 
a weak spine, was often utterly exhausted after preaching, yet 
she bore nine children, did her own work and sewing until 
later years, was a very neat housekeeper, a faithful mother, 
maintained a large correspondence, received many visitors, 
ministered personally among the poor and others, in addition 
to preaching continuously when able. 

All of her children were soundly converted and preached 
the gospel. She desired that they live only to honor God. 
Said she, "If you swerve from your integrity to God, I will 
pray you out of the world." To one of her sons she wrote: 



Mrs. Catherine Bcmdth 35 

"I hope the Lord will make you miserable everywhere, and at 
everything else, that you will be compelled to preach! Oh, my 
boy, the Lord wants you as such — ^just such — to go out 
amongst the people, seeking nothing but the things that are 
Christ's. You are free to do it; able by His grace; born to 
do it ; with splendid opportunities. Will you not rise to your 
destiny? 'Have courage, be strong, and I (the I Am) will 
be with thee.' And if you do, can you fail? The Lord gird 
you with His strength, and make your brow brass, and your 
tongue as a flame of fire. You must preach!'* 

To one o- ^e.r daughters she writes: *'Oh, it seems to me 
if I were in your place I should not be able to contain myself 
for joy! I should indeed aspire to be the bride of the Lamb, 
and to follow Him in the conflict for the salvation of poor, 
lost, miserable man. I pray the Lord to show it to you, and 
so to enamour you of Himself that you may see and feel it to 
be your chief joy to win them for Him. I say I pray for this 
— yes, I groan for it, with groanings that cannot be uttered; 
and if ever you tell me it is so, I shall be overjoyed. The 
Lord grant it to you, my dear child." 

To another son she writes: "I ask from you, as I asked 
from God, no other reward. If I know my own heart, I 
would rather that you should work for the salvation of souls, 
making bad hearts good, and miserable homes happy, and 
preparing joy and gladness for men at the Judgment Bar, if 
you only get bread and cheese all your life, than that you 
should fill any other capacity with $50,000 per year." 

Mrs. Booth was very particular to dress her children 
plainly and neatly. She wrote to her mother: "Accept my 
warm thanks for the little frock you sent. There is only one 
difficulty — it is too smart. We must set an example in this 
direction. I feel no temptation now to decorate myself, but I 



36 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

cannot say the same about the children; and yet, oh, I must 
be decided. Besides, I find it would be dangerous for their 
own sakes. The seed of vanity is too deeply sown in then 
young hearts for me to dare to cultivate it." A lady asked 
her how she managed to get her children converted so soon. 
She replied: "Oh, I have been beforehand vrith the devil." 
She wrote, *'Pcirents who love God best will not allow their 
children to learn anything which could not be pressed into His 
service." She guarded against waste and luxury in her home, 
and kept the clothes well mended and darned as long as they 
could be worn. 

It was some time following her marriage that she obtained 
the experience of holiness. Her chief failing had been irrita- 
bility, and she longed for a constantly sweet disposition. She 
devoted all she could of two days to waiting before the Lord. 
The Word, "Now are ye clean through the word I have 
spoken unto you," was applied to her heart, and as her confi- 
dence waxed bold, she was enabled to reckon herself dead 
indeed to sin. "I did not feel much rapturous joy, but per- 
fect peace — the sweet rest which Jesus promised to the heavy 
laden. I have understood the apostle's meaning when he said, 
*We who believe do enter into rest.' Two or three very try- 
ing things occurred on Saturday, which at another time would 
have excited impatience, but I was kept by the power of God 
through faith unto full salvation." 

From February, 1888, to October, 1890, Mrs. Booth 
suffered from cancer. Gradually every activity and recreation 
had to be dropped. When she could no longer use her right 
hand, she learned to write with her left, and on several occa- 
sions sent touching messages to the Army. "The waters are 
rising, but so am I. I am not going under, but over. Don't 
be concerned about your dying; only go on living well, and the 



Mrs. Catherine Booth 37 

dying will be all right." "My dear Children and Friends: 
I have loved you much, and in God's strength have helped 
you a little. Now, at His call, I am going away from you. 
The war must go on. Self-denial will prove your love to 
Christ. All must do something. I send you my blessing. 
Fight on, and God will be with you. Victory comes at last. 
I will meet you in Heaven." 

One of her last acts of love was to embroider a pair of 
slippers for her husband. This she contrived to do with her 
left hand. Their very fitting inscriptions were, "He will keep 
the feet of his saints," and "Our feet shall stand within thy 
gates, O Jerusalem." 

Speaking of Heaven, she said: "Oh, I feel like flying. I 
don't believe I shall be fastened up in a corner playing a harp. 
I shall let the folks do it who like, but I shall travel about if 
I can. I shall come and see you if I can, and whisper things 
to you — some things I have not been able to say." Tenderly 
stroking the General's gray head, bowed with sorrow at her 
side, she took his hand, weeping, and pressing it to her lips, 
said : 

"And this I do >md, we two are so joined, 

I shall not be long in glory and leave you behind! 
Not long, I am sure, not long!" 

Several sacred songs were sung by the friends about her 
death-bed, and whenever the word "peace" occurred she raised 
her hand in token that such was her blessed experience. 

"The glorious soul shone triumphantly through the sur- 
rounding darkness, and the glow of the eternal daybreak 
seemed already to have suffused the sufferer's face, and to 
have replaced the marks of pain with the stamp of unspeak- 
able peace." The silver cord was loosed October 4, 1890. 



38 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

The following was written by a convict, to whom Mrs. 

Booth had been a blessing: 

"So thou hast passed away, thou noble soul ! 
Gone to thy place among the stars to shine ; 
E'en while on earth, above its dark control, 
To beam for God — held by His hand was thine. 
Thy spirit's radiance was a thing Divine, 
Which dared to pierce where sunbeams might not dwell ; 
It threw a ray on darkest hearts — on mine — 
Shone through all shades, and burst into my cell ! 
Such souls as thine are lighted lamps from God, 
Sent to earth's gloom to gild it for awhile ; 
They, like morning, dawn life's shadowed road, 
To wake a bird, and bid a flower smile ! 
And thus it is. on clouds of man's despair 
Still falls the eye of God, and makes a rainbow there!" 

The outburst of popular sympathy at Mrs. Booth's death 
proved the high esteem in which she was held, and that her 
labors were not in vain. Pulpit and press lauded her, and 
unprecedented crowds thronged the funeral ceremonies. Clap- 
ton Congress Hall, London, seating 5,000, was crowded. Her 
well-worn Bible, her Army flag, her bonnet, and her crested 
jacket lay upon her casket, surrounded with ferns and flowers. 
A body of cadets kept the perpetual stream of visitors moving 
on. 41,700 people passed through the hall viewing the form 
of the soul-winner. "Many touching scenes were enacted at 
the coffin side. Not a few were so overpowered with grief 
that it was with difficulty that they could be removed. Others, 
remembering the messages of former days, came to seek salva- 
tion. Ministers, lawyers, doctors, actors, postmen, police, 
railway officials, grooms, workingmen just come from their 
various trades, and women from every grade of life. Strong, 
intellectual men gazed on that scene with tear-filled eyes. 
Never before have I experiencd so melting and harrowing a 
time as, one after another, numbers of them passed along, their 
quivering lips and tearful eyes betraying the fact that they 



Mrs. Catherine Booth 39 

recognized in the death of Mrs. Booth the loss of a personal 
friend.** 

From Clapton Hall, in East London, to the Olympia, in 
West London, the remains were removed a week later. Thirty 
thousand people gathered, and the gates shut out thousands 
more. The service was conducted by pamphlets distributed 
among the people, and by signals in large letters hoisted from 
the platform. Extracts from Mrs. Booth's writings formed 
part of the service. Deeply touching was the moment when 
the bereaved family rose on the large platform and sang the 
chorus which had often comforted the dying sufFerer: 

"We shall walk through the valley and the shadow of death, 
We shall walk through the valley in peace I 
For Jesus Himself will be our leader — 

We shall walk through the valley in peace!" 

The service was closed with an invitation to all who were 
willing to fully surrender to the Lord to arise. Many weeping 
hundreds responded. The funeral procession of relatives, and 
three thousand Army officers, was viewed by thousands swarm- 
ing the avenues emd every place of vantage along the four- 
mile route to the cemetery. Admissions to the cemetery were 
limited to ten thousand. Here an appropriate service from a 
large platform near the open tomb was conducted, some mem- 
bers of the family addressing the multitude, and using the op- 
portunity to exhort them to yield their lives unreservedly to 
Him who had so signally blest the departed one. 

This simple epitaph marks her grave, visited by thousands 
from many lands: 

"CATHERINE BOOTH, 

Mother of the Salvation Army. 

INIoi'e tlian conqueror through Him that loved us, and gave 

Himself for all the world, and for you. 

Do you also follow Christ?" 



BILLY BRAY 



BILLY BRAY was a drunken and lascivious miner near 
Truro, Cornwall, England. His Christicin father had 
died, and Billy was reared by his grandfather. Said Billy: 
"The Lord was good to me \vhen I was the servant of the 
devil, or I should have been down in hell now." He narrowly 
escaped death several times. Night after night his wife had 
to brmg him home from the beer-shop, drunk. 

He became awakened to his sinful state by reading Bun- 
yzm's ''Visions of Heaven and Hell/' Fighting the tempta- 
tions afid discouragements of the devil, he found God as he 
went alone in his room to pray after his work one day. Plead- 
ing the promise that "They that ask shall receive, and they 
that seek shall find, and to them that knock the door shall be 
opened," his faith pierced through, and joy filled his soul. 
"The Lord made me so happy that I cannot express what I 
felt. I shouted for joy." 

He often danced for joy on the street, in meeting, or any 
place. Said he: "The Lord has made me glad, and no one 
can make me sad. He makes me shout, and no one can make 
me doubt. He it is that makes me dance and leap, and there 
is no one that can keep down my feet. I sometimes feel so 
much of -the power of God that I believe, if they were to cut 
off my feet, I should heave up the stumps." 

"I can't help praising God," he once said. "As I go 
along the street, I lift up one foot and it seems to say, 'Glory.' 

40 




Billy Bray 



Billy Bray 43 

I lift up the other, and it seems to say, 'Amen'; and so they 
keep on like that all the time I am walking.** Even when his 
wife died he jumped around the room with joy, exclaiming, 
"Bless the Lord! My dear Joey is gone up with the bright 
ones! My dear Joey is gone up with the shining angels! 
Glory! Glory! Glory!'* 

**If they put me in a barrel I would shout *glory* out 
through the bung-hole!" Some objected to his habit of prais- 
ing the Lord so constantly, saying some folks might do it 
through force of habit. Billy replied that he didn't think the 
Lord was troubled much with that class of persons. 

Hearing of the triumphant death of a dying woman, he ex- 
claimed: "Glory! If a dying woman praised the Lord, I 
should think a living man might." 

When digging his potato crop, Satan tempted him, say- 
ing his heavenly Father did not love him very much, or He 
would have given him better and more potatoes, to which Billy 
replied: "Why, Tve got your written character home to my 
house; and I do say, sir, that you be a liar from the beginnin*. 
When I served you, I had only rags, and no taturs.*' Then 
he recounted the blessings of the Lord "until the devil went 
off as if he'd been shot.'* 

Very early in his experience Billy felt it his duty and 
privilege to be sanctified wholly. He was in a meeting at 
Hicks Corners one Sabbath morning when a stranger led the 
class. The leader asked one person whether he could say he 
was sanctified wholly, and he could not. Said Billy to him- 
self, "That is sanctification ; I will have that blessing by the 
help of the Lord." He went on his knees at once, and cried 
to the Lord to sanctify him, spirit, soul, and body. The Lord 
said to him, "Thou art clean through the word I have spoken 
unto thee." Said Billy, "Lord, I believe it.'* When the 



44 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

leader came to him, he said, "Four months ago I was a great 
sinner against God. Since that time I have been justified 
freely by His grace, and while I have been here this morning 
the Lord has sanctified me wholly." 

Of moderation in drinking, he said: "Ye might as well 
hang an old woman's apron in the gap of a potato field to. 
prevent the old sow with young pigs from going in, as expect 
a drunkard to be cured with moderation." 

He used tobacco some time after he was saved, but the 
Lord said to him he should serve the Lord with clean lips. 
He delayed obeying, when one day a good woman said to him, 
"Do you not feel it wrong to smoke?" This deepened con- 
viction, and he threw it away. "So the tobacco must go, 
love it as I may. Then and there I took the tobacco out ot 
my pocket and threw it into the fire, and put the pipe under 
my foot, 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' And I have not 
smoked since. The day after I gave up smoking I had the 
toothache so bad I did not know what to do. I thought this 
was owing to giving up the pipe, but I said I would never 
smoke again if I lost every tooth in my head. Sometimes the 
thought of the pipe would come back to me very strong, but 
the Lord strengthened me against the habit, and, bless His 
name, I have not smoked since." 

Billy frequently said that if God had intended men to 
use snuff the nose would have been turned upside down, and 
that if the Lord intended men to smoke He would have made 
a little chimney at the back of their heads. In his opinion, it 
would be a very poor architect who would plan to let all the 
smoke out at the front door. 

Billy and a preacher were holding a meeting. Billy 
opened the meeting with prayer, and the preacher and others 
fervently responded to his prayer. Observing this, he began 



Billy Bray 45 

to be more minute and specific in his petitions. "Oh, Lord, 
help the people to give up their idols." The preacher said, 
"Amen." "May thy people be saved from the love of the 
fashions." "Amen", again said the preacher. "Help thy 
people to give up their ribbons and feathers." "Amen." 
"And their cups and drinks." "Amen." "And their 
pipes and tobacco." This time there was no response 
from the preacher. Billy at once said, "Where's your 

'Amen', Brother B } Why don't you say 'Amen' to 

the pipes, as well as the cups? Ah, you won't say 'Amen' 
to the pipes." Then he proceeded with his prayer. The 
preacher afterwards remonstrated with Billy. But he justified 
himself by saying, "You were hearty and loud enough with 
your 'Amens' for others to give up their idols; but you are not 
willing to part with your own." 

He built, or aided in building, more than one chapel, 
trusting the Lord to supply needs as they came. He often 
used up his entire month's wages. This was a trial to his 
good wife, but Billy said the Lord would as soon starve 
Michael the archangel as him. Once he brought home no pay, 
and h's wife told h'm to go and borrow ten shillings. He did 
so, but on the way home he visited two families whom he con- 
sidered more destitute than his own. He gave them each five 
shillings. So he again returned home with no money. "You 
are enough to try anyone," said his wife. 

"The Lord won't stay in my debt very long," said Billy. 

Sure enough, in two or three days Mrs. came and gave 

h s wife a sovereign. "There, I told you the Lord wasn't 
going to stay in my debt very long. There's the ten shillings 
and ten shillings interest." 

Billy was a poor singer, yet he affirmed that the Lord 
Uf(ed to hear him sing. "Oh, yes, I can sing. My heavenly 



46 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Father likes to hear me sing, as well as those who can sing 
better. My Father likes to hear the croiP, as well as the 
nightingale.'' ^ 

Of worldly dress eind extravagance, he said: **I would 
rather walk to Heaven than ride to hell in a fine carriage. If 
the members of the churches would mortify the flesh more, and 
not gratif}) it, they would be much happier than they are." 

He would say to women concerning the use of artificial 
flowers: "I wouldn't mind your having a wagon-load of them 
on your heads, if that would do you any good; but you know 
it wouldn't, and all persons know that flowers only grow in soft 
places.** 

When asked how the world was getting on now, he said: 
"I don't know, for I haven't been there for twelve years." 

When the doctor told him that he was dying, he ex- 
claimed: "Glory! Glory be to God! I shall soon be in 
Heaven. When I get up there, shall I give them your com- 
pliments, doctor, and tell them you will be coming, too?" 

Some little time before dying, he said: "What? Me fear 
death? Me lost? Why, my Savior conquered death. If I 
was to go down to hell I would §hout, 'Glory! glory! glory 
to my blessed Jesus', until I made the bottomless pit ring 
again, and the miserable old Satan would say, *Billy, Billy, 
this is no place for thee; get thee back.' Then up to Heaven 
I should go, shouting, 'Glory! Glory! Glory! Praise the 
Lord!'" 

He lived 1794-1868. Verily the Lord Has use for all 
kinds of instruments. 



WILLIAM BRAMWELL 



THIS holy and eminently useful man was born at Elswick, 
Lancashire, England, February, 1 759. Few people are 
so utterly abandoned to God and His holy service as was he. 
Few ministers are such a flame of fire in the pulpit. Few in- 
tercessors are so constantly found wrestling alone with God, 
day and night, with tears. But few class-leaders and religious 
workers are so faithful to souls, with tact and grace, exhorting, 
reproving and instructing. Consequently few see the mighty 
results and fruitfulness of their labors that attended this tire- 
less, gifted, and humble workman of God. 

Revivals, deep, mighty, widespread and abiding, attended 
his labors wherever he went, but not without the laying of a 
solid Scriptural foundation. He believed that "the fervent 
effectual prayer of a righteous man availeth much." Hence 
he gave himself unreservedly to this holy exercise. Even if up 
in services until midnight, he would not lie abed in the morn- 
ing, but four o'clock usually found him in the secret place. 
He never was later than five arising, winter or summer. He 
considered it one of the conditions of his accepting work under 
the early Methodist rules, and would not be untrue to his 
trust. 

"I have been acquainted with many pious and holy per- 
sons, but one like Mr. Bramwell, for faith and prayer, I never 
beheld. While he continued with us the work went on pro- 

47 



48 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

gressively, and there was such an alteration throughout the 
circuit as was never before witnessed. 

"He did not use any extraordinary public efforts, but 
prayed much in private, sometimes whole nights, and exhorted 
everyone in society to adopt the same practice." 

Sometimes he and Anne Cutler, famous in early Method- 
ism, would be lodging at the same house. If so, there would 
be no sleep for the occupants after four or five o'clock, for 
their earnest vocal devotions aroused the slumberers in more 
senses than one, and a revival was apt to be on hand most 
any hour. 

By his parents William Bramwell, the tenth of eleven 
children, was instructed in piety, honest living, and industrious 
habits. He had a fine, mellow voice, and became a beautiful 
singer. In his youth he was apprenticed to. a currier several 
miles from home. His employer valued him as a strictly hon- 
est young man, but thought him mad on religion. Therefore 
he forbade him the use of any candles in the evening, that he 
might hinder him from studying the Bible. Nothing daunted, 
he stretched himself upon the Hoor before the hearth after the 
family retired, and by the flickering light of the burning embers 
read the sacred pages. 

Though he had alyvays been a dutiful son, yet unbearable 
conviction weighed upon his mind, and he took the earliest op- 
portunity of begging his Father's forgiveness. He adopted 
several modes of afflicting himself in the hope of obtaining 
salvation. To remind himself of his sins, he cut the flesh off 
the ends of some of his fingers, and would not allow them to 
heal. About midnight, after his master's family were asleep, 
he stole downstairs and, sprinkling coarse sand upon a cor- 
ner of the kitchen floor, he knelt to pray, with bare knees, in- 
terceding for forgiveness. When others took a holiday, he 



William Bramwell 49 

usually used it in confessing his sins. Sometimes in this dis- 
consolate state of mind he would walk at night the ten miles 
to his home, then return, letting none of his folks know that 
he was near. But he was always prompt and ready for wOrk. 
His constitution began to give way, and physicians were puz- 
zled to diagnose his case. But the heavenly physician came 
to his rescue, and while Bramwell partook of the Lord's Sup- 
per he obtained a clear sense of pardon. All his bodily ail- 
ments left him, and he was a happy man. 

An intimate friend desired him to go to hear the Method- 
ists, but so had the prejudice of his parents and others infected 
him that he refused. But later, being called a Methodist 
devil in derision by a wicked old lady, he concluded they 
must be good people, or the devil would not hate them nO. 
Consequently, when his friend again desired him to go to meet- 
ing with him, he went and, like Ruth, he declared that there- 
after they should be his people. "Oh, this is the kind of 
preaching which I have long wanted to hear. These are the 
people with whom I am resolved to live and die!" 

He became a class-leader and exhorter. Then he was 
licensed to preach, which he did throughout the neighborhood, 
in the face of violent and dangerous opposition. His agony 
in prayer was great, wrestling a large portion of the night with 
God. Sweat frequently poured down his face, and in ex- 
quisite anguish of soul he often exclaimed to an intimate friend, 
"Robert! Robert! What shall I do?" Once he spent 
thirty-six hours in unbroken waiting before God in a lonely 
sand-hole. 

Anne Cutler, who became known as "Praying Nanny," 
was one of the earliest fruits of his labors. She was a mother 
in Israel to hundreds. 



50 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Of his definite experience in entire sanctification, he said: 
"I was for some time deeply convinced of my need of purity, 
and sought it carefully, with tears and entreaties and sacrifice, 
thinking nothing too much to give up, nothing too much to suf- 
fer, if I might attain this pearl of great price. Yet I found it 
not, nor knew the reason why, till the Lord showed me I had 
erred in the way of seeking it. I did not seek it b^ faith alone, 
but, as it were, by the wor^s of the law. Being now con- 
vinced of my error, I sought the blessing by faith only. Still 
it tarried a little, but I waited for it in the way of faith. 
When in the house of a friend, I was sitting with my mind 
engaged in various meditations concerning my affairs and fu- 
ture prospects, my heart now and then lifted up to God — 
heaven came down to earth. It came to my soul. The Lord, 
for whom I had waited, came suddenly to the temple of my 
heart, and I had an immediate evidence that this was the 
blessing I had for some time been seeking. My soul was then 
all wonder, love and praise. It is now about twenty-six years 
ago. I have walked in this liberty ever since. Glory be to 
God ! I have been kept by His power. By faith I stand. 

**In this, as in all other instances, I have proved the devil 
a liar. He suggested to me, a few minutes after I received 
the blessing, that I should not hold it long — it was too great 
to be retained — and that I had better not profess it. 

"I walked fifteen miles that night to a place where I had 
an appointment to preach, and at every step I trod the tempta- 
tion was repeated: *Do not profess sanctification, for thou wilt 
lose it.* But in preaching that night the temptation was re- 
moved, and my soul was again filled with glory and with God. 
I then declared to the people what God had done for my soul ; 
and I have done so on every proper occasion since that time, 
believing it to be a duty. For God does not impart blessings 



William BramweLL 5J 

to His children to be concealed in their own bosoms, but to be 
made known to all who fear Him and desire the enjoyment of 
the same privileges. Thus we glorify God." 

Many desirous of a clean heart ceime for many miles to 
attend his meetings, and went away filled with the Spirit. He 
finally gave up his business life entirely, and entered the itin- 
erant ministry. He married a holy woman, whom he saw 
about once every six weeks, his traveling and preaching keep- 
ing him away so constantly. He was a very affectionate hus- 
band and father. Early ministers and their wives were indeed 
living sacrifices, keeping God first. 

His letters to his wife are models of affection emd helpful- 
ness. "May we ever live as near to Christ as it is possible for 
the spirit in the body! Nothing shall in this world, for one 
moment, make us rest short of the mind of Jesus. I am en- 
abled, through grace, to love all more and more, and to love 
God in all. Oh, keep this recollection of soul; let nothing 
bustle the spirit; let nothing make you care; be always at His 
feet, waiting and longing to be with Him. The Lord bless 
you and the children." 

"It has been much on my mind that you may live as Ann 
Cutler and I as John Fletcher. Let us follow them, and begin 
immediately. I believe I have a call for us both." 

Some advices he gave to three inquirers concerning private 
prayer are in point : 1 . When we find distraction in private 
prayer, we are often called upon to fight and wrestle, in order 
to obtain a mind stayed upon God. And sometimes when it 
is suggested that we should do something else — read, etc. — 
we ought resolutely to persevere in the path of duty ; and when 
we conquer through Christ, those seasons are often the most 
profitable. 2. Should we, however, still feel dissipated, we 
might then rise, walk up and down in the room, and sing, or 



52 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

rea'd some portion of the Word of God, and then kneel down 
and pray again. Or if the body be weak, we may occasionally 
pray standing, or even sitting. 3; Burning love, a warm, 
glowing feeling in the heart, is no necessary consequence of 
full salvation. It may exist with or without it. It is seldom 
given for more than a day or two, and then often previous to 
some peculiar trial, or some extraordinary outpouring of the 
Spirit." 

His approval of women preaching is stated in his corre- 
spondence with Miss Mary Bosanquet, who many years late> 
married Mr. John Fletcher, and in his letters to Miss Barret, 
whose labors as an evangelist were blest to the awakening and 
salvation of many. When he learned that the latter was con- 
templating marriage, he wrote warning her against it, as it 
would so curtail her usefulness. 

Moreover, on the general subject of the marriage of Chris- 
tians, he did not cease to warn the young people of his con- 
gregations against unequal yoking with unbelievers. If any 
went past his warnings, and rharried unsaved persons, their 
names were stricken from the church roll. They had violated 
a plain command of Scripture and broken their vowS to the 
church. ' 

That remarkable gift, the discernment of spirits was un~ 
ddubtedly given to him by the Lord, though he made no boast 
or profession of it. On one occasion, a strange man seemed to 
be taken very ill in a service. The kind Christians took him 
home and cared for him, and proceeded among the people to 
take up a cpllection for him, as he seemed destitute. However, 
Mr. Bramwell arrived in town, and being interested, he was 
taken to the home where the stranger was awaiting the collec- 
tion. Mr. Bramwell giToaned in his spirit, and after some time 
said: "Tell me, is there not a bastard child concerned in 



William Bramwell 53 

this?" Face to face with the man of God, the stranger ac- 
knowledged his guilt, and said he had run away to escape 
payment which the law demanded for an illegitimate child. 
He was given only time enough to leave the town, without re- 
ceiving a penny of the good people's money. 

To a woman attending a sick man whom he visited, he 
said: "All is not right here. I am clear there is something 
amiss in this place. , This man is not your husband. You 
were never married to him, but for several years you have been 
living together in sin and wickedness!" They both wept, and 
entreated the Lord to have mercy upon them. 

On another occasion he said to a church-member who was 
greatly respected, "Woman, you are a hypocrite, and if you 
do not repent you will die and go to hell." The reproof 
awakened her to her real danger. She truly repented, and got 
right with God, and said she was grateful for Mr. Bramwell's 
reproof. 

The following were his rules for class-leaders : 

1 . That every class-leader meet his own class except in 
case of urgent necessity. 

2. That he be punctual to the time of his meeting. 

3. To sing not more than two verses at the beginning. 

4. To be brief in prayer, and particularly to confine his 
petitions for those present. 

5. That several persons be asked to pray at the conclu- 
sion. 

6. That the meeting conclude in an hour. 

7. That the absentees be noted down, and visited by the 
leader in the course of the week. 

8. That the leader be zealous in speaking to persons who 
come under the Word. 



54 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

9. That every leader labor to enjoy the blessing of en- 
tire sanctification as a good qualification for his office. 

He was a most generous man, giving for the relief of the 
poor and the cause of the Lord most freely, using means he 
had acquired before entering the Lord's work. 

He was always humble, and warned his flock again and 
again against taking to themselves the glory due only to the 
name of Jesus. When he saw any danger on that line, he did 
not fail to lift his voice in admonition. The constant language 
of his heart was, *'Not unto us, not unto us, O Lord, be the 
glory." 

He studiously observed Mr. Wesley's admirable rules for 
preachers. He was never unemployed; never unprofitably em- 
ployed. He visited from ten to twenty families a day, praying 
in every home. 

The most important of those rules we subjoin, seeing those 
worthies, who followed them, carried with them so much unc- 
iton, life, and power in the Holy Ghost: 

'*Be diligent. Never be unemployed. Never be triflingly 
employed. Never while away time, nor spend more time at 
any place than is strictly necessary. 

"Be serious. Let your motto be 'Holiness unto the Lord.* 
Avoid all lightness, jesting and foolish talking. 

"Believe evil of no one unless fully proved. Take heed 
how you credit it. Put the best construction you can on every- 
thing. You know the judge is always supposed to be on the 
prisoner's side. 

"Speak evil of no one; else ^our word especially will eat 
as doth a canker. Keep your thoughts within your own breast 
till you come to the person concerned. 

"Tell everyone what you think wrong in him, lovingly and 
plainly, and as soon as may be, else it will fester in your own 



William Bramwell 55 

heart. Make all haste to cast the fire out of your bosom. 

"Do not affect the gentleman. A preacher of the gospel 
is the servant of all. 

"Be ashamed of nothing but sin — no, not of cleaning 
your own shoes. 

"Be punctual. Do everything exactly at the time. And 
do not mend our rules, but ^eep them, and that for conscience 
sake. 

"You have nothing to do but to save souls. Therefore spend 
2md be spent in this work. 

"Act in all things not according to your own will, but as a 
son in the gospel, and in union with your brethren. As such, 
it is your part to employ your time as our rules direct; partly 
in visiting from house to house, partly in reading, meditation 
and prayer. 

"It is not your business to preach so many times, and to 
take care merely of this or that society, but to save as many 
souls as you can; to bring as many sinners as you possibly can 
to repentcince, and with all your power to build them up in that 
holiness, without which they cannot see the Lord. 

"Early rising was a point on which Mr. Wesley insisted. 
He required it of everyone who became a helper."- 

Whoever observes these rules cannot but be a pious and 
useful workman, one that needeth not to be ashamed when he 
gives his account to God. 

Mr. Bramwell's correspondence was as spiritual and heav- 
enly as his conversation, as will be seen from these excerpts: 

"Can you plead more with God? Can you love God 
more? Can you have greater union with Him? You may 
have all these with great increase. I want you to continue a 
burning, as well as a shining light. I do not see but yci may 
be as useful as Nanny Cutler if you give all to God." 



56 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"I never found greater power in preaching, and I see 
blessed effects under almost every sermon. / never lived in so 
near a union rvith Cod as at the present. I do seek to be ready 
every moment. To retain a constant sense of the presence of 
God is our glory in this world. It is to live in Him, and al- 
ways to feel it. I am lost in wonder, love and praise ! Oh, 
may we drink still deeper into these wells of salvation! You 
know how — prayer, constant, private prayer. I have been 
lately roused from my bed in the night to pour out my soul to 
God. I feel I never pray too much. It is my life; it is my 
all in Him." 

He died suddenly of apoplexy in his sixtieth year. He 
had left the conference at Leeds, and lodged at Mr. Sigston*s 
until two-thirty A. M. He ate breakfast, prayed with the ser- 
vant girl, and left the house. A few minutes later the night 
patrolman found him dying in the lane. Thus suddenly was 
he transported from scenes of conflict to triumphant entry into 
the rewards of the blessed, August 13, 1818. 



DAVID BRAINERD. 



THE westward trail of the American Indian is dyed with 
blood, shed by the white man, as might made right, 
and the weaker, more barbarous nation gave way for the ex- 
pansion of civilization. To this day his naturally sullen, vi- 
cious and warlike nature cherishes unmitigated revenge against 
the white race. 

The injustices of the early white settlers in appropriating 
the lands of the Indians without due compensation, the unequal 
trading of trinkets for the Indian's valuable furs, fish and veni- 
son, the introduction of liquor which indeed became • fire-water 
to the Indian, received their recompense in the wild war-cries 
of the Indians rushing from the concealment of the forest to 
barbarously massacre the early settlers. 

Early missionary efforts were very much hindered by the 
ill-will of the red man, who regarded with suspicion every 
friendly approach of the whites, fearing a subtile trick was 
being played to trap him into slavery or rob him of his few 
crude belongings. He supposed all white folks were Chris- 
tians, and decided that such religion was little or no improve- 
ment upon the pow-wowing of the medicine men, his wild 
hooting war-dances and carousals, and his faith in the future 
happy hunting ground, unmolested by the pale-faces. 

To these ignorant, barbarous redskins, living in little clans 
the most simple and care-free life of the woods, ventured a 

57 



58 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

frail, slender youth of twenty-five years, unarmed except by 
the Gospel and the meek, compassionate Spirit of his Lord. 

A serious-minded young man he was, who, because of his 
statement that one of his professors had no grace, was ex- 
pelled from Yale College. 

Converted when a child, sober, industrious, fearing most 
to displease his Savior, never entering very heartily into the 
frolics of his school-mates lest he suffer spiritual loss, culti- 
vating a most unusual intimacy of communion with God, he 
was accepted by the American agents of the Scotch Mission- 
ary Society as a most suitable person to carry the Gospel to 
the Indian tribes. 

This pious youth was David Brainerd. His ancestors 
were of the good old hardy Puritan stock, and his disposition 
partook of the same serious, honest devotion to truth. His 
parents died when he was quite young. 

Though for many years he had been sincere and prayer- 
ful, yet he did not feel satisfied with his Christian experience, 
and was much tossed with doubt and fear and self-condemna- 
tion. But he records in his diary the glorious assurance 
granted to him after agonies of prayer: "Having been thus 
endeavoring to pray, then as I was walking in a dark, thick 
grove, unspeakahle glor^ seemed to open to the view and ap- 
prehension of my soul. It was a new inward apprehension or 
view that I had of God, such as I never had before, nor any- 
thing which had the least resembleuice of it. I stood still, 
wondered and admired! I knew that I never had seen any- 
thing comparable to it for excellency and beauty; it was 
widely different from all the conceptions that I ever had of 
God or things Divine. My soul rejoiced with joy unspeak- 
able to see such a God, such a glorious. Divine Being, and I 
was inwardly pleased and satisfied that He should be Cod 



David Brainerd 59 

over all forever and ever. My soul was so captivated and de- 
lighted with the excellency, loveliness, greatness, and other 
perfections of God that I was even swallowed up of Him. I 
scarce reflected that there was such a creature as myself.** 

Later he notes: "I think my soul was never drawn out so 
in intercession for others as it has been this night. Had a 
most fervent wrestle with the Lord tonight for my enemies, and 
I hardly ever so longed to live to God and to be altogether de- 
voted to Him; I wanted to wear out my life in His service 
for His glory.*' 

After being chosen as missionary to the Indians, he re- 
duced his belongings to the barest necessities of clothing, and 
bade farewell to his friends, and on horseback turned his face 
to the pathless wilderness. 

Never robust in body, he burned his life out rapidly in 
the labors he performed and rigors he endured, traveling many 
thousands of miles on foot and horseback, up rocky steeps, 
through wooded forests and tangled swamps, untrod but by 
the skulking, fleet-footed Indian and wild beasts of the forest. 

His first journey, with the exposure to cold and rain, ex- 
hausted his frail body. Oppressive melancholy seized his 
spirit. He seemed banished from God and civilized man. 
But the Indians received him kindly, and he was comforted, 
although their wild orgies distressed him much. 

He returned to Newark, N. J., long enough to be or- 
dained, and was well approved by the Presbytery. An ill- 
ness delayed him awhile, but fellowship with Christian friends 
encouraged him, and when able he again bravely took up his 
labors in the wilderness. 

"He so completely severed himself from the outside 
world that its concerns interested him no more. One thought, 
one aim, one desire, burning as a sacred passion, strove in his 



60 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

soul. One night he spent in such an agony of soul as can 
scarcely be described. When he rose from his knees, he could 
scarcely stand for very exhaustion, the perspiration stood on 
his forehead; he had cried to God until voice utterly failed, 
and nature, exhausted, seemed to be giving way. Then came 
to him such a sense of confidence in God, and entire surrender 
to His will, as he never forgot to his dying day. He speaks of 
it as a season altogether inexpressible. 'AH things here below 
vanished, and there appeared to be nothing of any considerable 
importance to me but holiness of heart and life and the con- 
version of the heathen to God. All my cares, fears, and de- 
sires which might be said to be of a worldly nature, disap- 
peared, and were in my esteem of little more importance than 
a puff of wind. I exceedingly longed that God would get to 
Himself a name among the heathen, and I appealed to him 
with the greatest freedom, that He knew I preferred Him 
above my chief joy. I cared not where or how I lived, or 
what hardships I went through, so that I could but gain souls 
to Christ. I continued in this frame all the evening and all 
the night. When I was asleep I dreamed of these things, and 
when I waked, the first thing I thought of was this great work 
of pleading for God against Satan.' " 

"I will not let Thee go, Tnou Help in time of need ! 

Heap ill on ill, 

I trust Thee still. 
Even when it seems that Thou would'st stay indeed ! 

Do as Thou wilt with me, 

I yet will cling to Thee. 
Hide Thou Thy face, yet, Help in time of need, 

I will not let Thee go!" 

For nearly three years he labored unceasingly, his frail 
body suffering keenly from cold, exposure, insufficient nourish- 
ment, and lack of all the comforts of life. During this time 
he saw very little to encourage him. The Indians were brought 



David Brainerd 61 

up in idleness, and did not wish to learn how to improve their 
condition. He had to preach for a long time through a 
heathen interpreter. The difficulties of acquiring the language 
can be judged of by the fact that their word for "question" 
contained thirty-five letters. 

Finally the light began to break and encourage the heart 
of him whose frequent night vigils, and strong crying, and tears 
in wrestling prayer for manv months had been witnessed by 
the dense trees, the moaning winds and watchful stars. His 
interpreter was blessedly saved, and re-preached Brainerd's 
thoughts with the same yearning pathos, tender unction and 
clear argument that moved the missionary's heart. 

"The very windows of Heaven opened to shower down 
the blessings of Divine grace. The servant had long to wait, 
and sometimes in the cloudy prospect of continued disappoint- 
ment Brainerd had felt need enough to pray for himself that 
his faith fail not. 

"The revival in Susquehanna will stand on record as one 
of the most remarkable events in the history of Christian en- 
terprise. Suddenly upon the whole Indian population fell what 
Brainerd calls 'a most surprising concern.' From all parts the 
people came crowding in, holding his bridle, and crowding 
round his horse to catch a few words of instruction, standing 
in speechless interest to hear his preaching, and falling down 
in frantic distress of soul. 

"There was much visible concern among them while I was 
discoursing publicly, but afterwards, when I spoke to one and 
another more particularly, whom I perceived to be under much 
concern, the power of God seemed to descend upon the as- 
sembly like a rushing mighty wind, and with an astonishing 
energy bore down all before it. 



62 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"I stood amazed at the influence which seized the audi- 
ence almost universally, and could compare it to nothing more 
aptly than the irresistible force of a mighty torrent or swelling 
deluge, that with its insupportable weight and pressure bears 
down and sweeps before it whatever is in its way. 

"Almost all persons of all ages were bowed down with 
concern together, and scarce one was able to withstand the 
shock of this surprising operation. Old men and women, who 
had been drunken wretches for many yeeirs, and some little 
children, not more than six or seven years of age, appeared in 
distress for their souls, as well as persons of middle age. 

"The most stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow. 
They were almost universally praying and crying for mercy, 
in every part of the house, and many out of doors, and num- 
bers could neither go or stand. Their concern was so great, 
each one for himself, that none seemed to take any notice of 
those about them, but each praying freely for himself. They 
were to their own apprehension as much retired as if they had 
been individually by themselves in the thickest desert. It was 
a day wherein I am persuaded the Lord did much to destroy 
the kingdom of darkness among this people. 

"It was very aifecting to see the poor Indians, who the 
other day were hallooing and yelling in their idolatrous feasts 
and drunken frolics, now crying to God with such importunity 
for an interest in His dear Son." 

"The sight of whole tribes of Indians hungering and 
thirsting after the righteousness which is in Christ Jesus gave 
h'm comfort and joy beyond all expression, and compensated 
him for the weary waiting, the exposure and lonely distress he 
had endured, for at last he saw the work of the Lord pros- 
pering in his hands." 



David Brainerd 63 

The sands of life were rapidly running out, and instead of 
slacking his diligence, Brainerd urged himself on to greater 
efforts. The light spread to other tribes. 

"Alas! my days pass away as chafF! It is but little I 
do or can do that turns to einy account. Oh, that I were a 
spiriU that I might be active for God! This, more than any- 
thing else, makes me long that this corruptible might put on in- 
corruption, and this mortal put on immortality. God deliver 
me from clogs, fetters, and a body of death that impede my 
service for Him.*' 

Sometimes his weary frame would have appreciated the 
comforts of home friends, but in the unwavering consecration 
of his loyal soul he cries, "Farewell! Farewell, friends and 
earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, the very dearest, if 
the Lord calls for it. Adieu, Adieu! I will spend my life 
to my latest moments in 'caves and dens of the earth* if the 
kingdom of Christ may be thereby advanced.** 

Among the last labors of Brainerd was the establishing of 
a good school for the instruction of young people in the day- 
time, and an evening session for the older Indians desiring a 
little free education. In every way possible he instructed them 
how to settle down, acquire well-tilled and productive farms, 
and improve their condition of soul and body. 

In May, 1 747, he visited Northampton. Some graver 
symptoms of his disease developing, he went to the home of his 
friend, Jonathan Edwards. The physician told him he was 
rapidly nearing a consumptive's grave. This rather cheered 
him, for he longed to be with Christ. He only cared to live 
for the betterment of the poor Indians. 

His loved brother, John, about this time finished his edu- 
cation, and with the same humble consecration, took up the 



64 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

work among the redmen. This was a great comfort to the 
faithful apostle, now lying prostrate with weakness. 

He regained strength enough to visit a little among his 
friends, but never again saw his dear Indians. 

To waiting friends he said: "My Heaven is to please 
God, and glorify Him, and to be devoted to His will. That 
is my religion, and that is my happiness. It is no matter where 
I shall be stationed in Heaven, whether I have a high or a low 
seat there, but to love, and to please and glorify God, is all. 
Had I a thousand souls, I would give them all to God. It is 
impossible for any rational creature to be happy without act- 
ing all for God. God Himself could not make him happy any 
other way. I long to be in Heaven, praising and glorifying 
God, with the holy angels. All my desire Is to glorify God. 
Oh, the glorious time is coming! I have longed to serve God 
perfectly, now God will gratify these desires!" 

His loved Jerusha was his constant and untiring nurse dur- 
ing the nineteen weeks of his illness. They talked much of the 
things of God, and confidently expected to renew their union 
in Heaven. She was a Christian of more than ordinary saint- 
liness. To her he turned in his last moments and tenderly 
said:. "Dear Jerusha, are you willing to part with me? I am 
quite willing to part with you; I am ^vIlling to part ^^'ith all 
my friends; I have committed all my friends to God, and can 
leave them all with God. Though if I thought I should not 
see you, and be happy \vlth you in another world, I could not 
bear to part with you. But we shall spend a happy eternity 
together!" 

Murmuring, "He will come; He will not tarry; I shall 
soon be in glory; I shall soon glorify God with the angels," he 
fell asleep in Jesus, October 9, 1 747, in his thirtieth year. 




John Bunyan 



JOHN BUNYAN 



PILGRIM'S PROGRESS is probably the most exten- 
sively read book in the English language, except the 
Bible. Its author is a truly great writer, "who combines the 
power of expressing thoughts of universal acceptability in a 
style of the most perfect clearness, with a high degree o^ im- 
aginative genius and a vivid descriptive faculty; whose works 
are equally attractive to readers of all ages and every variety 
of mental culture; which are among the first to be taken up in 
the nursery and among the last to be laid down when life is 
closing in on us, which have filled the memory with pictures, 
and peopled it with characters of the most unforgetable reality ; 
which have been probably translated into more languages, and 
attained popularity in more lands, than any books ever writ- 
ten.*' Pilgrims Progress, The Hol^ War, and Grace 
Abounding have made the name of John Bunyan immortal, and 
it is with reverent interest that we inquire into the facts of his 
life and the secrets -of his wisdom and instruction in the things 
of God. 

He was born of poor but worthy parents in the year 1 628, 
at Elstow, Bedfordshire, England. His father, Thomas Bun- 
yan, was a tinker, a mender of pots and kettles, which trade 
his worthy son also plied. John was a ring-leader of the youth 
in the little country village, dancing on the greensward, where 
the young people gathered nightly, playing tip-cat, or engag- 
ing in bell-ringing in nearby churches. He was married be- 

67 



68 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

fore he was twenty. Soon after the death of his first spouse 
he married his noble-minded second wife. She was a devout 
woman, and under her loving influence Bunyan began to re- 
form his life. At her urgent request he read some good books, 
which were instrimiental in his religious awakening. He be- 
came a regular attendant at church, gave up his Sunday sports, 
and gave attention to generally reforming his life. All this 
was not without a desperate struggle. During the week he was 
busy plying his tinker's trade, and the Sabbath had been for 
him the one day of recreation, when all the neighborhood 
gathered on the village green for jovial games and recreation. 
One Sunday the vicar preached a sermon on the sin of Sab- 
bath breaking, and Bunyan went home "with a great burden 
on his spirit," "sermon-stricken** and "sermon-sick.** But his 
Sunday dinner helped him to dispel his troublous convictions, 
and recklessly he went out to have a hilarious time. In the 
midst of his game of tip-cat or sly, just as he had struck the 
"cat" from his hole, and was going to give it a second blow, 
he seemed to hear a voice from Heaven asking him "whether 
he would leave his sins, and go to Heaven, or keep his sins, 
and go to hell.'* He thought he saw the Lord looking down 
upon him with threatening countenance. But he "shut his eyes 
against the light'* and silenced the condemning voice. For 
about a month he became more reckless, until "one day, as he 
was standing at a neighbor*s shop-window, cursing and swear- 
ing, the woman of the house, though a very loose and ungodly 
wretch, rebuked him so severely as the ungodliest fellow for 
swearing that ever she heard, able to spoil all the youth in a 
whole town. Self-convicted, he hung down his head in 
silent shame, wishing himself a little child again, that he might 
unlearn the wicked habit of which he thought it impossible to 
break himself. Hopeless as the effort seemed to him, it proved 



John Bui^yan 69 

effectual. He did quit swearing, and found to his own sur- 
prise that he "could speak better, and with more pleasantness,** 
than when he "put an oath before and another behind to give 
his words authority." 

Through the advice of a poor, godly neighbor, he began 
to study the Bible. He set the Ten Commandments before 
him as the way to Heaven, and felt comforted when he suc- 
ceeded pretty well in keeping them, but afflicted in conscience 
when now and then he broke one. With a desperate struggle 
he gave up his favorite amusements, dancing being the most 
difficult to relinquish, as he had engaged in it on the village 
green from boyhood. His friends marveled at his reformation, 
and this flattered his vanity. He now considered himself an 
heir of Heaven. This state of self-satisfaction, this deceitful 
calm, lasted about a year. "All this while," he writes, "poor 
wretch as I was, I was ignorant of Jesus Christ, and going 
about to establish my own righteousness, and had perished 
therein had not God in mercy showed me more of my state by 
nature.** 

While pursuing his calling of tinker in Bedford, one day 
he came upon three or four godly old women, "Sitting at a 
door in the sun, and talking of the things of God.** They 
were members of the congregation of Mr. John Gifford, saved 
from a notoriously loose and debauched life, but now a saintly 
and exemplary man of God. The conversation of these poor 
women was entirely beyond Bunyan, and opened to his souFs 
vision a new and blessed land to which he was a complete 
stranger. "They spoke of their own wretchedness of heart, of 
their unbelief, of their miserable state by nature, of the new 
birth, and the work of God in their souls, and how the Lord 
refreshed them, and supported them against the temptations of 
the devil by His words and promises." The unspeakable joy 



70 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost most forcibly 
impressed his mind. Their words went with him, and lingered 
in his thoughts as he went about his duties. So he made it 
his business to go again and again to listen to their edifying 
conversation. The salvation of his soul became the all-absorb- 
ing subject to him. His mind "lay fixed on eternity like a 
horse-leech at the vein." The Bible became precious. He 
read it with new eyes. 

But sad questionings filled his soul with darkness. He 
doubted if he were among the elect, or that God would deign 
to call him to be His child. He wondered if he had suffi- 
cient faith. Finally he sought the counsel of others, and be- 
gan to attend the services conducted by the godly Gifi^ord, 
For a time his convictions deepened, and he became more mor- 
bid. Much that he pens of the experience of Pilgrim seeking 
the way to the celestial city is but the realistic setting forth of 
what went on in his own soul as for several months he sought 
for conscious salvation. Despair seized hold of his mind. It 
seemed there was no hope for him. All the sins of all his 
life were an intolerable burden. He seemed forsaken of God. 
He felt driven to commit the unpardonable sin, and blaspheme 
the Holy Ghost. It seemed almost necessary to clap his hand 
under his chin, lest he should say the fatal words. Callous- 
ness settled down upon his spirit, and it seemed that "if he 
could have given a thousand pounds for a tear he could not 
shed one." When on his knees in prayer, he fancied he felt 
the foul fiend, Satan, pull his clothes from behind, bidding 
him break off — make haste, he had prayed enough. Little in- 
tervals of sunshine- weather broke in upon him, and his gloom 
would be briefly dispelled. At times his heart was filled with 
comfort and hope, faith would prevail, and he was almost be- 
side himself with joy over sins forgiven. Then shadows would 



John Bunyan 71 

gather again. But finally, after about two years of constant 
and whole-hearted seeking after God, the full light of day 
broke in upon his enraptured soul. 

"One day as I was musing on the wickedness and blas- 
phemy of my heart, that Scripture came into my mind, 'He 
hath made peace by the blood of his cross.' I was made to 
see again and again and again that day that God and my soul 
were friends by His blood. Yea, I saw the justice of God 
and my sinful soul could kiss and embrace each other. At 
another time the glory and joy of a passage in Hebrews (2: 
14-15) were so weighty that I was once or twice ready to 
swoon as I sat, not with grief or trouble, but with solid joy 
and peace. Now, had I evidence of my salvation from 
Heaven, with many golden seals thereon, all hanging in my 
sight, and I would long that the last day were come, or that 
I were fourscore years old, that I might die quickly, that my 
soul might be at rest. My soul cleaved to Him. I felt love 
to Him as hot as fire." 

A very ususual temptation soon beset his soul. He was 
tempted to give up Christ, to exchange Him for the things of 
this life, for anything. Nor was this a mere passing intermit- 
tent delusion. "It lay upon me for the space of a year, and 
did follow me so continually that I was not rid of it one day 
in the month — no, not sometimes one hour in many months to- 
gether, except when I was asleep." "Wherever he was, what- 
ever he was doing, day and night, in bed, at table, at work, 
a voice kept sounding in his ears, bidding him sell Christ for 
this or that. He could neither eat his food, stoop for a pin, 
chop a stick, or cast his eyes on anything but the hateful 
words were heard, not once only, but a hundred times over, as 
fast as a man could speak, 'Sell Him, sell Him, sell Him.' 
The agony was so intense while, for hours together, he strug- 



72 Men and \X'omen of Deip Piety 

gled v,~'_" "_".f te~r:a::cn, 'srz.: r.:s ^'-hole bcdy was convulsed 
by it He pui-ed and tknis: '.•::- r.:5 -ar.ds ^zd elbows, and 
kepi still answenng: 'No. I will not! I \s-ill net! Not for 
thousands, thousands. :r.:_sancls of •■•cr'.ds!' But the fatal 
momeiit at last care, .-:.- ::e ea^iened d. yie. ded azair.st 
itself. One morning as ne ay r. ns zed re v:::e came again 
with redoubled force, and • :u.a n:: :e s: enced, He r:-ght 
against it as long as he c:-L.a. e en un.:d a.r.:s: cut of ceam, 
when, without any c:ns:::u5 ac: ::' dne '••,:'... tne suicida! words 
shaped themselres in hs near:, Let H:n: go if He wiild " 

Like a wounded ixrd, he fell into fea::_i despair. He 
seemed to himself to be a Judas. "^I v. as asnared that I 
sn: .d be like sach. an ugly man as Judas." Tne:e seemed to 
:e n: n!ace of repentance^ Like Esau, he had >:.a n:s :;:th- 
: gn: He dared hard^ P^^J' His naturally smray frame 
I eg an to give way under the teniUe strain. His dies.iin be- 
came a sneered, a pain seized him in his breasn ns .mds 
n-emz.ea, ana ne seemed to himself to be like Cain, bearing 
me marks c: G:n s n.sp.easure. For about t\vc years nis poor 
soul w-^ ^ercely tossea in ne tempest, and a.m.rs: went to 
piece? on the rocks c: desparr. One day ne neard a voice 
spea'-^mg to his ccnsc::asness, "Drn's: ever rerdse to be jush- 
-zz :y me blood of Cnr:s:i" Ca.mmess cam.e. but socm van- 
isnea. At a later time tne - :.;e nispered. Tmis sin is not 
unto deana." Later. "I have loved thee with an evaiasdiig 
love." Ag? n. "He is able." At another time. "My grace 
is suficient" One day wben v.aking Ln the e'ds this sen- 
tence fell upon his soul: "Thy righ :e:_sness :s in heaven." 
He looked iq>, faidi pierced the CiOuos or doaot ana aespair, 
his tonptaticMis fled away. *'Now did the chains fa_. cf from 
my legs. I was loosed frcxn my afflirfions and irons. There 
was nothing but Christ before my eyes. I could reckon that 



John Bunyan 73 

all those graces of God that now were green upon me were 
yet but like those crack-groats, and four-pence half-pennies 
that rich men carry in theis purses, while their gold is in their 
trunks at home. Oh, I saw my gold was in Christ, my Lord 
and Savior. The Lord did lead me into the mystery of union 
with the Son of God. Christ was my all — all my wisdom, 
all my righteousness, all my sanctification, and all my redemp- 
tion.'* 

He was baptized and admitted to conmiunion. Later the 
tempter again beset him, at the Lord's table, to utter blas- 
phemies against the ordinance, and curse his fellow-communi- 
cants. The strain of beating off this shocking temptation for 
three-quarters of a year seriously affected his health again, and 
almost threw him into consumption, but he came through tri- 
umphantly this time. 

His health improved, the tempter gave up the struggle, 
and Bunyan became established in victorious Christian living. 
He left the village of Elstow, resided in Bedford, and became 
a deacon in Mr. Gifford's little congregation. About the same 
time he must have lost his first wife, to whom he owed so 
much. He was now in his twenty-seventh year, with an ex- 
perimental knowledge of salvation and the wiles of the devil, 
a vivid imagination, a minute knowledge of the Bible, and a 
ready gift of utterance. Mr. Gifford and His successor hav- 
ing both died, Bunyan was asked to speak to the edification 
of the little flock. The request scared him; nevertheless his 
efforts were not in vain, and the brethren recognized his gifts. 
His words went home. They burned into the conscience; they 
comforted and edified the saints, and awakened the ungodly. 
He began to accompany others in itinerating in neighboring 
villages, and soon established a reputation as a faithful evange- 
list. With solemn prayer and fasting, he was appointed to 



74" MiN an: \\ cn!en of Deep Piety 

the work of the rr. - s: ; He contmiiecl to make his living by 
his trade as tbker, ;_: i$ —irreloasly active in holding eve- 
ning meetbgs 'c.iz ci.\'^2 s.t ingcdly to Tepentance. His no- 
toriety spread, and many flocked to hear him, s(xne to man* el. 
and some to mock. He preacr.ea '■ r.erever there was oppcxtim- 
iiy, in woods, in barrs cr : .are rreers, ar.d evoi in churches, 
whoi poTE'ttec, B_: r.e ^er: very r.unzle, ar.G still consid- 
ered hin:se.: an ur. •.%:::.-;•• 'rt::.- He preac-.ed not what he 
-ad read r. b>oks, b'jt --■•■-a: r.e :.iz exze:;er.:ed, and "labored 
so to speak :-e v, ::d as that the sin ar.c person guiltj miglift 
be particularized by it" 

Ore of his hearers remarked fco him after a service: "That 
was a sweet sermon/* He replied: "Xo need to tdl me that 
The de . :! % Hspered it to me before I was out of the pulfnt'* 

Ger.era'..y the parcchial clt'-ry '.'.-ere hf? bitterest «'"«t?"^. 
ar.d :rea:ec; 5er.::rr.er.: ara-.-s: r.:~, Mar.y c: them iattc en- 
%::us c: -:s success. As Bua R::-j-.s:n says, 'They coold 
not tree a possum, so stoned ...e dog that couli" So bitter 
v.-as :he cpp:s::icn, that even before the restoration of the 
Cr.urc- ar.z Cr:'..^, tr.ey tried to bring the law agal-st '-.„". 
During the tune of the Commonweal:-.. Quakers, and even 
EiMSOopalians and Catholics, '-.-ere per:e:u:eu. After the res- 
toratian of the Cn>¥ni, vergear.re as srug..:, ar.d the p^rse- 
cntioD waxed Ixtter agains: ?ur .ar.s, c: ar.y zzzy z: :r- 
diqiers, condocting any other se ::es except tr.e p:escr:3eu and 
formal services of the Elsta: ; ta L .urch of Er.r aru. 

\X'heri restored to the throne, Cr.arles ga' e assurance that 
no one should sxiffer for his re. r;:us :a::.-, ar.u rears of con- 
tinued posecuticHi were c'spe ..ea Bu: p: . ;;a. actics %N'ere 
mme impcntant to him thaii ^ttz-.z . s :ra . e uc.eava:! 
just passed in the affairs of g: er^mer.. r.aae :.t.: as a.-.a pe;- 
ple vay sDS|Mcious of any irregular gau.e rings, .es: sec.:: en ne 



John Bunyan 75 

stirred up and the country again thrown into the throes of 
revolution. Accordingly, the ban became more stringent 
against any irregular assembly. Enemies were not lacking to 
hound Bunyan*s tracks. The country magistrates meeting in 
Bedford issued an order for the public reading of the Liturgy 
of the Church of England. Such an order Bunyan had no 
thought of obeying. To go to church and pray "after the 
form of men*s inventions** was to him a relic of popery, and 
he exhorted his flock against it. He believed in rendering 
obedience to no secular authority in matters of conscience. 

"November 12, 1660, Bunyan had engaged to go to the 
little hamlet of Lower Samsell, near Harlington, to hold a re- 
ligious service. His purpose becoming known, a neighboring 
magistrate was instructed to issue a warrant for his apprehen- 
sion under the Act of Elizabeth. The meeting being repre- 
sented to him as one of seditious persons bringing arms, with a 
view to the disturbance of the public peace, he ordered that a 
strong watch should be kept about the house, as if, says Bun- 
yan, *we did intend to do some fearful business to the destruc- 
tion of the country.' The intention to arrest him oozed out, 
and on Bunyan*s arrival the whisperings of his friends warned 
him of his danger. He might have easily escaped if he had 
been minded to play the coward. Some advised it, especially 
the one at whose house the meeting was to take place. The 
man himself, as a 'harbinger of a conventicle,* would also run 
no small danger of arrest. The matter was clear enough to 
Bunyan. At the same time it was not to be decided in a 
hurry. The time fixed for the service not being yet come, Bun- 
yan went into the meadow beside the house and, pacing up and 
down, thought the matter well out. If he who had up to this 
time showed himself hearty and courageous in his preaching, 
and had made it his business to encourage others, were now to 



76 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

run and make an escape, it would be of an ill savour in the 
country. If he were now to flee because there was a warrant 
out for him, would not the weak and newly-converted breth- 
ren be afraid to stand when great words only were spoken to 
them. God had chosen him to be the first to be opposed for 
the Gospel. What a discouragement it must be to the whole 
body if he were to fly. No, he would never by any cowardli- 
ness of his give occasion to the enemy to blaspheme the Gos- 
pel. So back to the house he went with his mind made up. 
He had come to hold the meeting, and hold the meeting he 
would. He was not conscious of saying or doing any evil. 
If he had to suffer it was the Lord's will, and he was pre- 
pared for it. He had a full hour before him to escape, if he 
had been so minded, but he was resolved not to go away. He 
calmly waited for the time fixed for the brethren to assemble, 
and then, without hurry or any show of alarm, he opened the 
meeting in the usual manner, with prayer for God's blessing. 
He had given out his text, the brethren had just opened their 
Bibles, and Bunyan was beginning to preach, when the arrival 
of the constable with the warrant put an end to the exercises. 
Bunyan requested to be allowed to say a few parting words 
of encouragement to the terrified flock. This was granted, and 
he comforted the little company with the reflection that it was 
a mercy to suffer in so good a cause; that it was better to be 
the persecuted than the persecutors; better to suffer as Chris- 
tians than as thieves or murderers. The constable and the 
justice's servant, soon growing weary of listening to Bunyan's 
exhortations, interrupted him, and would not be quiet until 
they had him away from the house." 

A few inquiries showed the magistrate whither Bunyan 
was taken that he had entirely mistaken the character of the 
mating and its object. Instead of gathering turbulent fanatics 



John Bunyan 77 

for the disturbsmce of the public peace, they were only a few 
pious, harmless people, met together to preach and hear the 
Gospel. But the magistrate was too proud and stifF to acknowl- 
edge his mistake. So he asked a few questions, then flew into a 
Sflge, and declared angrily that he would "break the neck of 
these unlawful meetings,** and that Bunyan must furnish bail or 
go to jail. Bail was at once forthcoming, but Bunyan would not 
promise that if given his liberty he would not repeat the of- 
fense. He intended to continue preaching the Word of God. 
This being so, he was sent to jail, and his trial left for the 
next Quarter Sessions. These proceedings extended on into 
the night, and in the morning he was conducted to Bedford 
jail, thirteen miles distant, where he remained twelve long years, 
carrying, as he says, **the peace of God along with me, and 
His comfort in my poor soul.** 

Many others were imprisoned as the persecution waxed 
hotter, and not a few succumbed to disease from their filthy 
confinement, and died in the prisons. Bunyan*s rugged consti- 
tution withstood the taxing ordeal. Some of his jailors during 
the period were harsh and brutish; others were kind and gen- 
tlemanly, allowing him every possible privilege. His wife 
made every possible effort and plea for his release, but to no 
avail. 

Like Paul, he ministered to the souls of his companions in 
jail, or any chance visitors. He was not sad and disconsolate, 
and could have borne his confinement without regret had it 
not been for his tender fatherly solicitude for his wife and 
children, especially his dear blind Mary. Even in his bonds, 
he contrived a way to aid in their support by making shoe- 
strings. 

"All things work together for good to them that love God." 
This binding of the man of God did not bind the Word of 



78 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

God. He had used his versatile pen before in writing some 
controversial and other treatises, but to the period of his im- 
prisonment may be attributed most of his immortal productions. 
His library had always been limited to a very few deeply spir- 
itual books. He made no pretensions to literary rank. In so 
serious a business as speaking to men of things which fix eter- 
nal destiny, he scorned the vanity of brilliant ornament. **He 
spake with authority and not as the scribes.'* Yet that very 
simplicity constitutes one of the chief charms of all his writ- 
ings. Every home should contain a well-used volume of Pil- 
grims Progress, and every pilgrim to the celectial city should 
avail himself of the inspiration and instruction of its realistic 
portrayal of the vicissitudes of the journey thither. His prolific 
pen produced much that is still worthy of close perusal, but 
Pilgrim s Progress is undoubtedly the best, and ranks its au- 
thor unquestionably with truly great writers. 

Under the Great Seal, Bunyan was pardoned September 
13, 1 672. Comparatively little is known of the remaining 
years of his life. His celebrity as a preacher continued, and 
his usefulness was unabated. He refused a call to move to 
London, choosing rather to remain among those friends who 
had been his compemions in tribulation, and an aid to his fam- 
ily when he could not fully provide for them, owing to his im- 
prisonment. He was again imprisoned for a brief period in 
1675. At the end of six months he was again released. But 
he was never entirely free from the possibility of re-imprison- 
ment. However, like Paul, "none of these things moved" 
him, and he kept his vow that he would stay in jail until the 
moss grew upon his eyelids rather than quit preaching the 
Gospel. He died August 31, 1688, in his sixtieth year. 
His wife soon followed her faithful pilgrim across the river. 
Five children survived him. 




Wm. Carey 



WILLIAM CAREY 



WILLIAM CAREY, the father and founder of modern 
missions, was born at Paulersbury, Northampton- 
shire, England, August 17, 176L His father was a journey- 
man weaver with a moderate income; later he became school- 
master and parish clerk. Early William began an e?-ger pur- 
suit of knowledge, books of science, history, and travel being 
of special interest to him. Many were the botanical specimens 
brought home by him from the forest. At the age of seventeen 
he was apprenticed to a shoemaker, his frail health unfitting 
him for hard outdoor labor. 

In his eighteenth year he was soundly converted. His 
father was a strict churchman, and did not fail to instruct his 
son in the letter of the law. When his son became a dissenting 
preacher, the father did not openly express h's approval be- 
cause of the reproach upon worshiping God "after the manner 
called heresy,** but deep in his heart he was much gratified, 
while the mother went openly to hear her son, and declared he 
would become a great preacher. 

His salary was only ten pounds (less than fifty dollars) 
per year. He pieced out his meager living by teaching and 
shoemaking, in addition to his pastoral work. He brooded 
continually over the lost condition of the world, and became 
convinced that it was the positive duty of Christians to spread 
the Gospel to all lands. It seems there was some united effort 
to spread the Gospel in the home land, but as yet no associa- 

81 



82 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

tion to send out workers among the heathen. At the annueJ 
meeting, I 789, Carey preached a great discourse from Isaiah 
54: 2, 3, the gist of it being: "Expect great things from God. 
Attempt great things for God." The impression made was so 
deep that resolutions were passed for the organization of a so- 
ciety for the propagation of the Gospel among the heathen. 
Thus Carey became the father of modern foreign missions. 
The first collection for the enterprise amounted to thirteen 
pounds. Many difficulties had to be overcome, but finally, in 
June, I 793, Mr. Carey and his wife and three children, and 
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas and their child set sail for India, land- 
ing in Calcutta five months later. The first year was one of 
battling with hindrances. Living expenses were so high in 
Calcutta that they removed to Bandel, but no facilities for 
opening missionary work being found there, they returned to 
Calcutta. In June, 1 794, Mr. George Udny offered the 
management of two indigo factories to Carey and Thomas. 
This afforded them a salary, and Carey immediately informed 
the Missionary Society that he would need their support no 
longer, but that he hoped that other ^vorkers would be sent 
into foreign mission work. 

Carey made rapid progress in acquiring the Bengalee lan- 
guage, and began preaching to the natives. He also started a 
school, and worked vigorously at translating the Scriptures. 
In the midst of his great work his little son Peter died, and 
Carey himiSelf was prostrated with fever several months. In 
1800 he removed from Mudnabatty to Serampore, joining 
other missionaries who had come thither through his influence. 
There Henry Martyn greeted him in the Lord, and looked up 
to him as a father in the Gospel. 

The name of the first native convert was Krishnu Pal, and 
his baptism was a memorable scene. Carey first baptized his 



William Carey 83 

own son Felix, using English words. Then he baptized Krish- 
riu, using the Bengalee language. Even the govjernor could 
not restrain his tears, so sacred and so solemn was- the occa- 
sion. 

For seven years Carey had daily preached Christ in Ban- 
galee. He had reduced the Bengalee language to writing, and 
produced his first edition of the New Testament. The songs 
of rejoicing mingled with the ravings of Mr. Thomas and 
Mrs. Carey in the mission houses near by. Thomas was so 
overjoyed at this first Gospel victory that his mind was un- 
seated for a brief time. Krishnu Pal himself built a native 
house of worship, and notwithstanding their loss of caste, and 
suffering of much persecution for Jesus' sake, a native band of 
converts gathered about the faithful missionaries. 

In 1800 Carey's translation of the New Testament in 
Bengalee was published. A public service of thcuiksgiving to 
God was held on the occasion. It was a great labor of love 
and triumph of patient scholarship. The finished ability dis- 
closed by the translation drew attention of the learned to Carey, 
and he was invited to be teacher of Bengalee in the government 
school. The position was accepted as teacher of Bengalee, 
and afterwards of Sanscrit and Mahratta, at a salary of six 
hundred pounds (about eighteen hundred dollars) per year. 
His salary as professor increased to fifteen thousand pounds 
(about seventy-five thousand dollars) per year. But the 
Tphole of this income, except about forty pounds needed for 
the support of his family, was devoted to the interests of the 
mission. Truly, he buried every personal interest in his whole- 
souled effort to spread Gospel truth to famishing heathendom. 
He held his position of professor until 1830, four years before 
his death. He won the highest esteem and affection of his stu- 
dents and colleagues. 



84 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

A new chapel was opened in Calcutta in 1 809, and Carey 
conducted the week-day services there. 

"While his professional engagements and his literary pur- 
suits detained him often in Serampore and Calcutta, yet he 
eagerly seized any opportunity that arose for itinerating, with a 
view to extending Christianity. 

"In 1807 Mrs. Carey died, having long suffered from 
insanity. She had no sympathy with her great husband in his 
unselfish devotion to the salvation of souls, but he always 
treated her with most noble tenderness. Later he married Miss 
Charlotte Rumohr, who entered heartily into all the concerns 
of the mission, and was a great help to her husband until her 
death in 1820. 

"Besides translating the Bible into seven different lan- 
guages, Mr. Carey wrote grammars and elementary books of 
all the languages he had acquired. The improvement upon 
native paper for press purposes, by manufacturing it so as to be 
proof against destruction by insects, was an immense advantage 
gained by the ingenuity of the missionaries, and the importa- 
tion of a steam engine of twelve horse-power for working their 
paper mill was a striking evidence of the enterprise of these 
men. 

"The first reform Carey helped to effect was the prohibi- 
tion of the sacrifice of children at the great annual festival at 
Gunga Sangor. Another reform to which Carey gave his de- 
termined attention was the abolition of the burning of widows 
on the pile of their dead husbands. 

"The benevolent institutions for instructing the children of 
indigent parents originated in the philanthropic sympathies of 
Carey ; and in the year 1817 no less than forty-five schools had 
been established. A leper hospital was founded, and a ver- 
nacular newspaper published. 



William Carey 85 

"His practical knowledge of botany and agriculture re- 
sulted in very material benefit to India, and lays that country 
under a debt of obligation which can never be discharged. In 
1817 was begun the missionary training institute, which after- 
wards grew to a college. For forty-one years William Carey 
was spared to labor for the good of India. He outlived nearly 
all who were associated with him in his prolonged residence, 
unbroken by any return to England. He died June 9, 1 834.** 

Brown University, in the United States, conferred upon 
him the degree of D.D. The Linnaean, Horticultural and 
Geological Societies admitted him to their memberships, and 
men of high position and learning extolled his worth. But he 
cared nothing for the honor that cometh from man, and sought 
that only which cometh from God. As David Livingstone 
lost himself in the cause of the redemption of dark Africa, so 
did William Carey let his life burn out for India's enlighten- 
ment and uplift through the blessed Gospel of the Son of God. 

His idea concerning foreign missions was, that as soon as 
possible, they should become self-supporting, thus releasing 
missionary money for the spread of the Gospel in other needy 
places. This plan he followed, having received only about 
six hundred pounds from the missionary society at home. And 
while he was for long years the able professor of oriental 
languages in a government school, devoting thereto four days 
per week, yet he never suffered his professional work to over- 
shadow his high calling. Everywhere and always he was the 
ambassador of Jesus Christ, using every means he could to 
bring souls into the light of Divine favor. 

Some of the brethren in the homeland became fearful that 
the love of money and earthly possessions was supplanting the 
love of God in the hearts and lives of the India missionaries, 
and by their propaganda they did much harm to the work by 



86 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

dampening the faith and confidence of the home constituency. 
But Carey, Marshman, Ward and Thomas continued sted- 
fastly in the work of the Lord, putting all except what was 
actually necessary for food and clothes into the work of estab- 
lishing twenty-six mission schools and stations, publishing Bibles 
and tracts, and itinerating among the natives. Also, there were 
some very notable conversions among learned English residents. 

In Carey's last will and testament he says: "I utterly dis- 
claim all or any right or title to the premises at Serampore, 
called the mission premises, and every part and parcel thereof; 
and do hereby declare that I never had, or supposed myself to 
have, any such right or title. I give and bequeath to the Col- 
lege of Serampore the whole of my museum, consisting of 
shells, corals, insects, and other natural curiosities, and a Hor- 
tus Siccus; also the folio edition of Hortus Woburnensis, which 
was presented to me by Lord Hastings ; Taylor *s /{ebren> Con- 
cordance, my collection of Bibles in foreign languages, and all 
my books in the Italian and German languages." In order to 
leave a little sum to one of his sons in limited circumstances, 
he ordered that the remainder of his books (after certain pro- 
visions) should be sold. Thus we see that all his earthly pos- 
sessions consisted of his excellent library, his collection of nat- 
ural curiosities, and a magnificent garden, in which he grew 
over two thousand various pleints, every kind that could be 
made to grow in India. We discover also his bent for natural 
science, breadth of mind and capacity for hard work. 

His faith, that could not be denied, for the salvation of 
his four sons, is beautiful and inspiring. He took great ceure 
in their training and education, and was gratified by three of 
them becoming devoted, self-sacrificing missionaries in the Ori- 
ent. The youngest was employed by the government, and was 
successful, well-honored, and an exemplary Christian. 



William Carey 87 

One fact which deeply impresses one in studying the life 
of this truly great man is his ability to work hard. Said he: 
"I can plod. I can persevere in any definite pursuit. To this 
I owe everything." Circumstances in his youth did not favor 
the acquiring a finished education. His father was a journey- 
man weaver, later a school-master and parish clerk. There 
was always plenty of hard work, but by studying constantly, 
at work and after work, his achievements were marvelous. 
Plodding and system were the secrets of his intellectual attain- 
ments, as well as his success as a missionary, under God. 

"For the Christianization and civilization of India, he gave 
1,625 pounds received as a manufacturer of indigo, and 45,- 
000 pounds as professor of Sanskrit, Bengali and Marathi, 
and Bengali translator to government — a total of 46,625 
pounds, or about $230,000. Truly he was a faithful stew- 
ard." 

Alexander Duff's accounts of visits to the aged missionary 
are full of interest. "Landing at the college ghaut one swel- 
tering July day, the still ruddy highlander strode up to the 
flight of steps that leads to the finest modern building in Asia. 
Turning to the left, he sought the study of Carey in the house 
where the greatest of missionary scholars was still working for 
India. There he beheld what seemed to be a little, yellow, old 
man in a white jacket, who tottered up to the visitor, of whom 
he had often heard, and with outstretched hands, solemnly 

blessed him. The result of the conference was a double bless- 

»» 

ii^g. 

Duff's last visit is thus described: *'On one of the last oc- 
casions he saw him, he spent some time talking chiefly about 
Carey's missionary life, till at length the dying man whispered, 
'PrayV Duff knelt down and prayed, and then said 'Good- 
bye.' As he passed from the room, he thought he heard a 



88 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

feeble voice pronouncing his name, and turning, he found that 
he was recalled. He stepped back accordingly, and this is 
what he heard, spoken with a gracious solemnity: *Mr. Duff, 
you have been speaking about Dr. Carey. When I 
am gone, say nothing about Dr. Carey. Speak about Dr. 
Carey's Savior.* Duff went away rebuked and awed, and 
with a lesson in his heart that he never forgot.'* 

Another, visiting him in his last days, found him neatly at- 
tired, sitting at his desk, his eyes closed. On the desk lay the 
proof-sheet of the last chapter of the New Testament, which 
he had revised a few days before. White locks adorned his 
venerable brow. His face was colorless. He seemed as one 
waiting for his Master*s summons. Fearing to break the sol- 
emn silence, the visitor said nothing for half an hour, then ven- 
tured: "My dear friend, you evidently are standing on the 
borders of the eternal world; do not think it wrong, then, if I 
ask, 'What are your feelings in the immediate prospect of 
death?' " Opening his languid eyes, he earnestly replied: 
"As far as my personal salvation is concerned, I have not the 
shadow of a doubt. I know in whom I have believed, and am 
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed 
unto Him against that day. But when I think that I am about 
to appear in the presence of a holy God, and remember all my 
sins and manifold imperfections, I tremble." He could say 
no more. The tears trickled down his cheeks, and soon he re- 
lapsed into silence. 

The simple inscription on his tombstone was according to 
his request: 

'WILLIAM CAREY, bom August 17, 1761 ; 
died June 9. 1 834. 
"A wretched, poor and helpless worm. 
On Thy kind arms I fall.*' 




Adam Clarke 



ADAM CLARKE 



ADAM CLARKE is known mostly by his great set of 
Commentaries on the Bible, the writing of which occu- 
pied twenty-seven years of close, hard work. But few know 
the fact that he was one of the early flaming Methodist 
preachers of Wesley's day, and had a prominent part in that 
great revival. 

He was not a precocious child. At school he was very 
dull, and proverbially at the foot of his class, until past eight 
years of age. Some scornful expression about his dumbness 
stung his pride into effort, his mind awakened, he applied him- 
self to study, and the result was amazing. He mastered 
twenty languages, and made research in almost every branch 
of learning. He became proficient in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, 
Samaritan, Chaldee and Syriac versions of the Scripture, and 
learned in all the oriental languages and most of the languages 
of Europe. 

His curiosity led him to attend Methodist meetings and, 
like many others, he remained to pray. Agony of conviction 
was followed by sky-blue conversion. Soon he was exhorting 
others, and seeing them become lowly Christiguis. One day 
Wesley said to him, "Do you wish to devote yourself entirely 
to the work of God?" **Sir, I wish to be and to do whatever 
God pleases." "I think you had better go out into the work 
at large," said Wesley, Then laying his fatherly hands upon 
the young man, he prayed a benediction upon him, euid sent 

91 



92 MexN and Women of Deep Piety 

him to Bradford circuit. He had twenty-three appointments, 
(and did most of his traveling on foot, carrying most of his 
belongings on his back. In eleven months he preached 450 
times. 

Like Abraham of old, he heard the voice of God bidding 
him to get out from his native land, Ireland, and follow whither 
the Lord should lead him. This he did, though stoutly op- 
posed by his Presb3^terian mother and Episcopalian father. 
He resolved, "I am determined by the grace of God to con- 
quer or die!" Over his mantel he placed the motto: "Stand 
thou as the beaten anvil to the stroke." Indomitable energy 
carried his decisions through. He carefully husbanded his 
time. While others slept or trifled, he studied, prayed and 
worked. This was the great secret of his herculean accom- 
plishments. To a youth he wrote, "The grand secret is to 
save time. Spend none needlessly. Keep from all unneces- 
sary company. Never be without a praying heart, and have 
as often as possible a book in your hand." 

The great, the wise, the good, sought his company. But 
he loved the society of humble people, and sought not the 
praise of men. Said he, "Learning I love; learned men I 
prize; with the company of the great and good I am delighted. 
But infinitely above all these, and all other enjoyments, I glory 
in Christ in me, living and reigning and fitting me for His 
heaven." 

He was always a clear teacher of holiness. As to his 
own experience of entire sanctification, he said: "I regarded 
nothing, not even life itself, in comparison ^^^th having ml? 
heart cleansed from all sin; and began to seek it with full pur- 
pose of heart. Soon after this, while earnestly wrestling with 
the Lord in prayer, and endeavoring self-desperately to be- 
lieve, / found a change wrought in mp souL which I have en- 



Adam Clarke 93 

deavored through grace to maintain amid the grievous tempta- 
tions and accusations of the subtle foe.** 

His powerful treatise of Purity of Heart shows Christians 
their call and privilege of being filled with the Spirit. *'It 
would be indeed dishonorable to that grace, and the infinite 
merit of Him who procured it, to suppose, much less to assert, 
that sin had made wounds which grace would not heal. Of 
such a triumph Satan shall ever be deprived.'* 

**As there is no end to the merits of Christ incarnate and 
crucified; no bounds to the mercy and love of God; no let or 
hindrance to the almighty energy and sanctifying influence of 
the Holy Spirit; no limits to the improvability of the human 
soul, so there can be no bounds to the saving influence which 
God will dispense to the heart of every true believer. We may 
ask and receive, and our joy shall be full! Well may we 
bless and praise God, who has called us into such a state of 
salvation.'* 

He was so youthful when he went to preach his first ser- 
mon that a man, eyeing him from head to foot, asked, *'Are 
you the preacher?'* "Yes, I am sent by Mr. Bredin." "You 
are a young one to unravel the Word." But to their aston- 
ishment the young one did unravel the Word with blessed suc- 
cess. Ere long crowds gathered to see him, and many in- 
quired what they must do to be saved. 

He and another went as missionaries for a period to the 
Norman Isles, where they suffered some sharp persecution at 
first, but later saw good success. 

He married Miss Cook, well qualified to be the wife of 
such a man. Few marriages are so felicitous. 

His godly father, before he died, wrote on a sheet of 
paper his last benediction: "May the blessing of God, and a 
dying father's blessing, ever be upon all my children. I die 



94 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

full of hope, and happy. John Clarke." Whenever Adam 
Clarke passed the cemetery where his father lay buried, he un- 
covered his head, as a mark of respect to his worthy father's 
memory, while he rode or walked by. 

His pen was always busy, and his writings scholarly, spir- 
itual, and always useful. He began his greatest work, the 
Commentaries, May 1 , 1 798, and finished it March 28, 1 825, 
on his I^nees. It was a moment of great joy to him, and he 
fittingly returned thanks to his Heavenly Father for enabling 
him to finish the task. 

He was a truly good man. In private life he was a de-- 
voted husband and an affectionate father. He had twelve 
children. He was greatly beloved by his brethren in the min- 
istry, £ind after Mr. Wesley*s death they elected him president 
three times. So reluctant was he to accept the responsibility 
that the first time his brethren had to carry him bodily and 
place him in the chair, but once there, he performed his duties 
with grace and success. 

Seven weeks before his death he closed a short journal of 
his last visit to Ireland thus: 

*'I feel a simple heart; the prayers of my childhood are 
yet precious to me, and the simple hymns I sang when a child, 
I sing now with unction and delight. Phil. 1:21. May I 
live to Thee, die in Thee, and be with Thee to all eternity. 
Amen. — Adam Clarke." 

In the year 1 832 the cholera was prevalent in England, 
and carried off many by sudden death. The disease attacked 
Mr. Clarke while away from home. His wife and friends 
reached him in time to see the end of the good man's useful 
career. The great scholar, the eloquent preacher, and the 
learned conmientator went to his reward at about the age of 
seventy years. 



CHRYSOSTOM. THE GOLDEN-MOUTHED 



JOHN CHRYSOSTOM, like many great men, had a great 
mother. Her name was Anthusa. Her husband, who was 
in command of the imperial troops in Syria, died soon after the 
birth of their son, and his training and education devolved 
solely upon her. She lived exclusively for him. 

He studied eloquence under Libanius, the most famous 
orator of his time. Soon the pupil excelled his instructor! 
After studying philosophy, he devoted himself to the study of 
the Scriptures, and determined to quit all worldly pursuits and 
dedicate himself to the Lord. He spent several years in soli- 
tary confinement in the deserts of Syria, contemplating the 
things of God and, like Moses in the desert, being taught of 
the Lord. Returning to Antioch, he became a priest. He be- 
came so celebrated for his deep piety and silver-toned eloquence 
that the Emperor Arcadius secured his appointment as Arch- 
bishop of Constantinople. 

But if the Emperor had thought that the Golden-mouthed 
Chrysostom would prostitute his gifts and high and holy calling 
to palliate and excuse the profligacy of the royal feimily, he 
was rudely awakened, for the man of God cried aloud, and 
spared not. The immorality of the Empress Eudoxia received 
due denunciation from his pulpit, along with his exposing of 
heresy and paganism. This aroused the hatred of the Empress 
and her powerful friends. Accordingly a sentence of banish- 
ment was passed against the prophet of God who had dared, 

95 



96 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

in such times of gross sin and darkness, to lift up his voice, to 
cry aloud and spare not. Chrysostom was retiring. His many 
friends were sad. A popular revolt was bre\ving, so great in- 
fluence had he acquired. The night follo^^•ing, an earthquake 
added its terrorizing persuasion, and the Empress hastily in- 
vited the holy man to return. This he did, much to the joy of 
many. 

But the peace was only a very brief one. The consecration 
of a statute was attended by many heathen orgies, and ageiin 
the golden-mouthed denounced the wild revelries inaugurated 
by the Empress on that occasion. Like Herodias, the Empress 
Eudoxia determined upon revenge. Chrysostom was con- 
demned and banished to Armenia. There he continued to ex- 
ert so much influence for good that another sentence was passed 
ordering him to the most distant shore of the Black Sea. The 
old venerable man was compelled to make the long journey on 
foot. His cruel persecutors showed no pity, though his strength 
failed rapidly. He died at Csmana, in Pontus, in the year 
407, far from friends and kinsfolk, but heaven is as near m 
one clime as another. No doubt his light afflictions for Jesus' 
sake are lost in the celestial glory of his heavenly home. 

Thus lived and died the greatest pulpit orator of Chris- 
tian antiquity. He magnified his holy office, and at a time 
when Bishops and Archbishops were chosen and elevated to 
luxurious palaces and unprecedented power in spiritual and 
temporal affairs, not because of their superior piety, but their 
marked business ability; he considered the preaching of the 
great truths of the Bible his grandest and highest calling. Not- 
withstanding his multiplied duties at the capital, he preached 
with great earnestness and fervor t^vice a week to listening 
multitudes who stood and listened unweariwJ to his matchless 
and fearless declarations of Divine truth. 




William Carvosso 



WILLIAM CARVOSSO 



It is with pleasure we write briefly of the great usefulness 
** of a humble layman, not having many gifts naturally, but 
so fully consecrating himself and his all to his Savior and the 
salvation of souls that his life is as a great, spreading tree, 
planted by the river of waters and bringing forth its fruit in 
its season. 

William Carvosso was born in 1 750, near Mousehole, 
Cornwall, England. Ten years of his life were spent on the 
farm with his mother, the father being at sea. The next eleven 
years were spent on a neighboring farm. His sister was saved, 
and on a Sabbath morning in 1 771 he found she had come a 
distance of twelve miles to pray with the family. Her exhorta- 
tions awakened in him a sense of his need. He went to hear 
the Methodists, and became overwhelmed with a load of con- 
viction. The pains of hell got hold of him, and he was in an- 
guish of soul several days. In answer to the powerful sugges- 
tions and distracting temptations of the devil, he cried: "I am 
determined, whether I am saved or lost, that while I have 
breath I will never cease crying for mercy." The very mo- 
ment he formed this resolution Christ appeared within, God 
pardoned all his sins, and set him at liberty. 

The enemy suggested that he better not mention it to any- 
one, and to this he readily agreed. It might have proven disas- 
trous, for a light under a bushel is sure to go out. A sure way 
to lose any work of grace or blessing from the hand of the 

99 



100 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Lord is to refuse to tell about it. But on the third day he was 
drawn into conversation, and told what he experienced. The 
delusion vanished, and thereafter he was quite ready and apt 
in declaring what the Lord had done for his soul. 

"But I was soon taught that I had only enlisted as a sol- 
dier to fight for King Jesus, and that I had not only to contend 
with Satan and the world from without, but with inward ene- 
mies also, which now began to make no small stir. Having 
never conversed with anyone who enjoyed heart purity, nor 
read any of Mr. Wesley's works, I was at a loss, both with 
respect to the nature and the way to obtain the blessing of 
full salvation. From my first setting out in the way to 
Heaven, I determined to be a Bible Christian; and though I 
had not much time for reading many books, yet I bless God I 
had His own Word, the Bible, and could look into it. This 
gave me a very clear map of the way to Heaven, and told me 
that "without holiness no man should see the Lord.** 

If more would implicitly follow their Bible's plain teach- 
ing, and stop their ears to the doctors and teachers who would 
tamper with their faith, no doubt God would lead them also 
out into the fulness of the blessing. 

Said he: "My inward nature appeared so black and sin- 
ful that I felt it impossible to rest in that state.'* Oh, for more 
Holy Ghost conviction of the depravity of inward sin! 

After many hard struggles with unbelief, and agonizing for 
eight days, the great deliverance came. "I began to exercise 
faith by believing, *I shall have the blessing noT)f.* Just at 
that moment a heavenly influence filled the room. Refining 
fire went through my heart, scattered its life through every 
part, and sanctified the whole. I then received the witness 
that the blood of Jesus had cleansed me from all sin. I was 
emptied of self and sin, and filled with God. I felt I was 



William Carvosso 1 1 

nothing, and Christ was all in all. Oh, what boundless, bound- 
less happiness there is in Christ, and all for such a poor sinner 
as I am! This happy change took place in my soul March 1 3, 
1772/' 

He joined the Wesleyan church, and three years later was 
made class-leader. He entered upon his work with fear and 
trembling. Constant in visiting, and never suffering himself 
to drop into mere sociabilities, to the neglect of spiritual in- 
terests; with God-given insight conducting the old-fashioned 
close class-meetings, and keeping a careful oversight of God*s 
children; truly he was a father in Israel, one who naturally 
cared for their state. His memoirs are a record of the saving 
of one soul after another as he made a brief call in a home, 
or tarried over night, or lodged at a public inn, or paid his fee 
at the toll-gate. His words were loaded words, penetrating the 
heart, melting its stoniness, and making God very real and 
present. Our space will permit us to cite only two or three 
instances : 

"Returning one night from the quarterly-meeting love- 
feast, in company with a pious friend, he told me he had the 
unspeakable happiness the night before to witness the conver- 
sion of his young daughter. I informed him I had two children 
who were getting up to mature years, but I was grieved to say 
I had not yet seen any marks of a work of God upon their 
hearts. His reply I shall never forget: *Brother, has not God 
promised to pour His Spirit upon thy seed, and His blessing 
upon thy offspring?* The words went through me in an un- 
accountable manner. They seemed to take hold of my heart. 
I felt as if I had not done my duty, and resolved to make a 
new effort in prayer. I had always prayed for my children, 
but now I grasped the promise with the hand of faith, and 
retired daily at special seasons to put the Lord to His Word. 



102 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

I said nothing of what I felt or did to anyone but the searcher 
of hearts, with whom I wrestled in an agony of prayer. 

"About a fortnight after I had been thus engaged with 
God, being at work in the field, I received a message from my 
wife informing me that I was wanted within. When I entered 
the house my wife told me, 'Grace is above stairs, apparently 
distressed for something; but nothing can be got from her, but 
that she must see father.' Judge of my feelings when I found 
my daughter a weeping penitent at the feet of Jesus. She ex- 
claimed, 'Oh, father, I am afraid I shall go to hell!' She 
said she had felt the load of sin about a fortnight, and that now 
she longed to find Christ. She soon found rest in the atoning 
blood. 

*"My eldest son had hitherto been utterly careless about 
the things of God, and associated with youths of a similar dis- 
position of mind; but now he became the subject of a manifest 
change; he cast off his old companions, and one Sabbath 
afternoon, just before I was going to meet my class, he came 
to me with a sorrowful mind, and expressed his desire to go 
with me to the class-meeting. He did go, and that day cast 
in his lot with the people of God; and, blessed be God, they 
both continue to this day." 

The society grew until they had two classes, and outgrew 
their building, and had to build a new chapel. 

"I now began to feel a particular concern for the salva- 
tion of my younger son. I laid hold by faith on the same 
promise which I had before urged, when pleading for my other 
children, and went to the same place to call upon my God in 
his behalf. One day when I was wrestling with God in mighty 
prayer for him, these words were applied with power to my 
mind: 'There shall not an hoof be left behind.' I could pray 
no more; my prayer was lost in praises, in shouts of joy and 



William Carvosso 1 03 

glory. His life was quite moral, and I could not reprove him 
for any outward sin. His delight was in studying useful 
branches of knowledge; but this, though good in its place, was 
not religion. I knew his heart was yet estranged from God. 

"After the answer I had in prayer I waited some time, 
hoping to see the change effected in him, as in his brother and 
sister. But this not taking place according to my expectations, 
I felt my mind deeply impressed with the duty of embracing 
the first opportunity of opening my mind to him, and talking 
closely to him about eternal things. I accordingly came to 
him on one occasion and, with my heart deeply affected, 1 
asked him if it was not time for him to enter upon a life of 
religion. I told him, with tears, that I felt my body was fail- 
ing, and that if anything would distress me in a dying houi 
it would be the thought of closing my eyes in death before I 
saw him converted to God. This effort the Lord was pleased 
to bless. The truth took hold of his heart; he went with me 
to the class-meeting, and soon obtained the knowledge of sal- 
vation by the remission of his sins. We now had the unspeak- 
able happiness of seeing all our dear children converted to God 
and traveling in the way to Heaven with us.*' 

Again the church outgrew its bounds, and another and 
much larger building had to be erected. A great and glorious 
revival broke out and spread to neighboring towns. His re- 
sponsibilities were increased by having three classes to look 
after, and his younger son became a local preacher. 

His wife had died a victorious and happy death, the two 
older children were married, then the younger son was called 
into the ministry, and later went as a foreign missionary. 

He sold his farm, and what time he did not spend in trav- 
eling over his district from town to town, meeting classes, and 
exhorting individuals everywhere to yield to Jesus, he resided 



104 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

with his daughter. The fetters of all worldly cares being gone, 
he gave himself up unreservedly to the Lord*s service. Such 
was the anointing upon him that his words did not fall to the 
ground, and everywhere the Lord gave him lasting fruit. These 
old-time saints knew how to prevail with God, and then go 
after souls in dead earnest. 

After a long and painful illness, he fell asleep in Jesus 
while attempting to sing, * 'Praise God from whom all blessings 
flow.'* 

He died at the cige of eighty- four, having lived sixty-four 
of them in an unbroken walk with God. 

His life teaches us: (1) The reality and blessedness of 
true religion. (2) A man without great education or talents 
may be very useful, if he apply himself to improve his mind, 
and use opportimities. (3) How letter writing may be very 
fruitful of results to the glory of God if done in a spirit of 
prayer and faith. At sixty-five he learned to write, and his 
many spiritual letters and personal diary are models of devo- 
tion, and a means of grace to the reader. (4) That God is 
able to keep us from falling, through a long period of years, 
and all kinds of spiritual conflict. (5) That Christian parents 
may see their children soundly converted to God if they earn- 
estly contend in prayer, and faithfully bring them up in the 
fear of the Lord. (6) How to grow old gracefully, and our 
last days be our best days. (7) How practicable it is for 
Christians to give religion the prominence in their conversation 
which its supreme importance justifies. Carvosso*s superior 
conversational powers, under the anointing of the Spirit and 
from a full heart, brought thousands to the Lord. 




Miss Grace E. Chadwick 



MISS GRACE E. CHADWICK 



How blest the righteous when he dies ! 
When sinks a weary soul to rest, 
How mildly beam the closing eyes, 
How gently heaves the expiring breast! 
Life's labor done, as sinks the clay, 
Light from its load the spirit flies, 
While Heaven and earth combine to say, 
"How blest the righteous when he dies !" 

SUCH was the death of Grace E. Chadwick, May 5, 
191 1, at the age of thirty-seven and a half years. She 
still lives in the warm affections of many to whom she was a 
blessing — lives in answered prayers as their vials are poured 
out! How often the small, frail body seemed wrapped with 
life Divine, as, with face transparent in heaven-lit glow, she 
declared the goodness of God, or swayed to and fro, not able 
to express the unutterable of which her spirit partook. 

The call to prevailing prayer was pre-eminently her call- 
ing. To preach, to labor publicly, to fill places of trust and 
prominence in the church, are too often held in higher estima- 
tion than the lowliness of intercession. But to the subject of 
the present sketch, to *'sway things by the Throne,** rather 
than depend upon human genius and energy, was a most cher- 
ished privilege. Considering the frailty of her body and limits 
to activity, the results of her ministry can be accounted for in 
no other way. Said one of her, *'I heard Grace in her room, 
about to retire at break of day. I remonstrated with her about 
it. She replied, 'Oh, the time seemed so short.' When a burden 

107 



108 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

for the work was upon her she said, *My bed would feel like 
nettles if I retired before I prayed the burden off.' ** 

Left an orphan at five years of age, she was adopted by 
an aunt and uncle. With them she lived until seventeen, when 
they died. She was with her grandfather, then attended the 
seminary at Houghton, N. Y., and afterward was in the 
home of Mrs. Sarah A. Shultz, Falconer, N. Y. 

Recognizing the hand of the Lord upon her in a special 
way. Rev. P. B. Campbell urged her into the public work. 
From this she timidly shrank, but went as the hand-maiden of 
the Lord, never claiming to be a fine preacher. She humbly 
delivered the simple messages the Lord gave to her, and moth- 
ered souls into faithful Christian living, being especially pa- 
tient with the weak or lagging. The secrets of keeping in the 
Spirit and avoiding display seemed peculiarly known to her. 
She successively served a nimiber of Wesley an churches in 
Ohio and Pennsylvania. 

With a true, fervent missionary spirit, yearning and pray- 
ing much for the heathen, she denied herself that she might 
give freely for their salvation. The opening of the Wesleyan 
mission in Gujurat District, India, was partly due to her 
prayers and public agitation of the project. 

As she sank deeper into utter weakness, and her pain in- 
creased, the perspiration dampening four thicknesses of com- 
forters about her, her concern was still for souls of others. She 
could not refrain from praying with a backslider who entered 
her room shortly before death. While, at her request, "Rock 
of Ages" was sung, her pure spirit left the shattered house of 
clay for another building "not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens.** 




James Caughey 



JAMES CAUGHEY 



JAMES CAUGHEY was a native of Ireland, who emi- 
grated to America in his youth. He was soundly con- 
verted in young manhood. Two years after his conversion he 
was admitted into the Troy Annual Conference of the Method- 
ist Episcopal Church. He was ordained a deacon in 1 834. 
His first labors were not distinguished by any uncommon re- 
sults. He seemed to be an ordinary preacher, and his friends 
entertained no lofty hopes of a famous future for him. 

With resolution he determined to cultivate all his powers 
by constant study, and a close and familiar walk with God. 
He was always looking for means of strength, wisdom and 
piety. He learned much from many sources, but from no 
source of information did he reap so large a harvest as from a 
passage in the writings of Dr. Adam Clarke. Speaking of it, 
he says: 

"From the hour I read the following striking remarks of 
Adam Clarke, a few months previous to my ordination, I have 
never varied a hair-breadth from the great truth they advocate. 
I can only quote from memory, as the page which first pre- 
sented them to my eye is many thousands of miles from me, 
and I cannot turn to the place in his works where they stand 
recorded; but they differ little from the following: 'But all 
this spiritual and rational preaching will be of no avail, unless 
another means, of God's own choosing, be super-added to give 
it an effect — the light and influence of the Holy Spirit. That 

111 



1 1 2 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Spirit of life and fire penetrates, in a moment, the sinner's 
heart, and drags out to the view of his conscience those in- 
numerable crimes which lie concealed there under successive 
layers of deep and thick darkness, when under that luminous 
and burning agency he is compelled to cry, "God, have mercy 
on me a sinner! Save, Lord, or I perish. Heal my soul, for 
it hath sinned against Thee.** 

*'I shall have eternal cause for thankfulness that the above 
sentiments ever came under my notice. If my ministry has 
been rendered a blessing to many, that blessing has been vouch- 
safed, through the merits of Christ, to a steady recognition of 
the necessity of the influence of the Holy Spirit. On the eve- 
ning of that never-to-be-forgotten day in which I read the 
above, I took up my pen, in secret before God, and gave vent 
to the emotions of my deeply-impressed heart, in language 
something like the following: 'I see, I feel now, as I have 
never done before, upon this particular subject. From the 
convictions of this hour I hope, by the grace of God, never to 
vary. I see, I feel: 

** ( 1 ) The absolute necessity of the immediate influence 
of the Holy Ghost to impart point, power, efficacy^, and suc- 
cess to a preached Gospel. 

"(2) The absolute necessity of praying more frequently), 
more fervently, more perseveringly, and more believingly, for 
the aid of the Holy Spirit in my ministry. 

"(3) That my labors must be powerless, and comfort- 
less, and valueless, without this aid; a cloud without water, a 
tree without fruit, dead and rootless; a sound uncertain, unc- 
tionless and meaningless; such will be the character of my min- 
istry. It is the Spirit of God alone which imparts significancy 
and power to the Word preached, without which, as one has 
expressed it, all the threatenings of the Bible will be no more 



James Caughey 1 1 3 

than thunder to the deaf or lightning to the blind. A seal re- 
quires weight, a hand upon it, in order to make an impression. 
The soul of the penitent sinner is the wax; Gospel truth is the 
seal, but without the Almighty hand of the Holy Ghost that 
seal is powerless. A bullet demands its powder, without 
which it is as harmless as any other body. The careless sin- 
ner is the mark; truth is the ball that must pierce him; but it 
cannot reach, much less penetrate him, separate from this influ- 
ence from Heaven. In apostolic times they preached the Gos- 
pel with the 'Holy Ghost sent down from heaven* (1 Peter 
1:12). In our day we need an energy from no lower source 
to overturn the wickedness of the vile and profane, and to 
counteract the formality and worldliness which are everywhere 
visible. 

"(4) I am now fully persuaded that in proportion as the 
Spirit of God shall condescend to second my efforts in the Gos- 
pel message, I shall be successful; nor need I expect any suc- 
cess beyond. No man has ever been signally useful in win- 
ning souls to Christ without the help of the Spirit. With it, 
the humblest talent may astonish earth and hell, by gathering 
into the path of life thousands for the skies; while without it 
the finest, the most splendid talents, remain comparatively use- 
less. 

**(5) The entire glory of my success shall henceforth be 
given to the Holy Spirit. By this I shall conscientiously abide, 
as by any other principle of our holy religion. It is written, 
'Them that honor me, / Tvill honor.* To this may be added 
that righteous, inalienable and unchangeable determination of 
Jehovah: *M\j glor'j) I will not give to another.* ** 

From this time Mr. Caughey*s labors were more fruitful, 
but not so as to distinguish him above many of his brethren. 



114 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"Our Conference of 1839 was held in the city of Sche- 
nectady, N. Y. That year I was appointed to Whitehall, N. 
Y. Shortly after I had my library and study furniture for- 
warded to my station. 

"It was then I began seriously to reflect upon the pro- 
priety of choosing a wife, believing that 'marriage is honorable 
in all men.' I had traveled a number of years, studied hard, 
and expended all my time and strength in winning souls to 
Christ. My brethren approved of my intention. But, while 
indulging in this purpose — for some reason I could not ex- 
plain — my heart became very hard. The Lx)rd seemed to de- 
part from me, and that countenance which so often beamed 
upon me from above, and had daily for many years, bright- 
ened my soul with rapturous joy, appeared now to be mantled 
in the thickest gloom. 

"The more I reflected thus, 'I can see no good reason why 
I should be singular among my brethren, nor continue to lead 
this solitary life,* my heart became harder, and my darkness 
increased. I was soon involved in a variety of evil reasonings. 
My will seemed to be in conflict with something invisible. God, 
who had honored me with such intimate communion with Him- 
self since my conversion, apparently left me to battle it out 
alone. So it appeared to me then, but now I see God Himself 
was contending with me. I was about to step out of the order 
of His providence, and He was resolved to prevent it, unless 
I should refuse to understand why He thus resisted me. Had 
I continued the conflict, I believe He would have let me take 
my owTi course ; nor would He have cast me off ; yet I solemnly 
feel He would have severely chastised my disobedience. 

"My distress and gloom were so great I could not unpack 
mv library, nor arrange my study. I began to reflect most 
solemnly upon my unhappy state of mind, and became more 



James Caughey 1 1 5 

concerned to regain my former peace and joy in God, than to 
obtain any temporal blessing whatever. The world was a 
blank, a bleak, howling wilderness to my soul, without the 
smiles of my Savior. In fact, I could not live, but must 
wither away from the face of the earth, without His comfort- 
ing and satisfying presence. Like a well-chastised son, I came 
back to the feet of my heavenly Father, and with many tears 
I besought Him to reveal His face to my soul ; that if my pur- 
pose were crossing His, to show me; and whatever was His 
will, I would at once, by His help, yield my soul unto it. 
'Lord, God,' I said, 'if my will crosses Thy will, then my will 
must be wrong; Thine cannot but be right.* Now I cared not 
what He commanded me to do, or to leave undone; I stood 
ready to obey. I felt assured clear light on some points would 
soon reach my soul, and I was fully prepared for it. But I 
no more expected such an order as came soon after than I ex- 
pected He would command me to fly upward and preach the 
Gospel in another planet. During three days I cried to God 
without any answer. On the third day, in the afternoon, I ob- 
tained an audience with the Lord. The place was almost as 
lonely as Sinai, where Moses saw the burning bush. It was 
under the open sky, a considerable distance from the habita- 
tions of men; steep rocks and mountains, deep forests and 
venomous reptiles surrounded me. Here, and in a moment, the 
following passage was given me to plead: 'And the Lord de- 
scended in a cloud, and stood with him there, and proclaimed 
the name of the Lord. And the Lord passed by before him 
and proclaimed, The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gra- 
cious, longsuffering and abundant in goodness and truth, keep- 
ing mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression 
and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty.* (Exodus 
34: 5-7). I took hold of this; many of the words were like 



1 16 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

fire, and as a hammer to break the rocks in pieces before the 
Lord. The fountains of tears were opened, and the great deep 
of my heart was broken up. I left the place, however, with- 
out receiving any light; but my heart was fully softened and 
subdued, and I felt assured I had prevailed in some way with 
God. I was confident light and direction was coming, but of 
what nature I could not tell. 

"This was on the 9th of July, 1839. The same evening 
about twilight — eternal glory be to God — when reading in a 
small room adjoining my study, a light, as I conceived, from 
Heaven, reached me. My soul was singularly calmed and 
warmed by a strange visitation. In a moment I recognized the 
change; the following was spoken to my heart, but in a man- 
ner and with a rapidity I caimot possibly describe; every ray 
of Divine glory seemed to be a word that the eye of my soul 
could read — a sentence which my judgment could perceive 
and understand: 'These matters which trouble thee must be 
let entirely alone. The will of God is that thou shouldst visit 
Europe. He shall be with thee there, and give thee many seals 
to thy ministry. He has provided thee with funds. Make thy 
arrangements accordingly; and next Conference cisk liberty 
from the proper authorities, and it shall be granted thee. Visit 
Canada first; when this is done,* sail for England. God shall 
be with thee there; and thou shalt have no want in all thy 
journeyings; and thou shalt be brought back in safety again to 
America.' 

"The above is far beneath the dignity and grandeur of the 
impression. It came in a way that left no room for a doubt. 
A heavenly calm, a powerful persuasion, and an intense glow 
of Divine love, accompanied the whole. It was like the break- 
ing forth of the noonday sun at midnight. I fell upon my 
knees before the Lord, my whole mind consenting to the orders. 



James Caughey 117 

which I beheved had come from Heaven. Oh, the sweetness 
of that communion I then enjoyed with God! My sky was 
cloudless. My rest of soul unutterable. The meaning of 
many past providences was now explained. The possession of 
a few hundreds of dollars had often made me uneasy. I 
doubted the propriety of laying up treasure on earth. The 
cause of missions stood in need of what I possessed, but still 
I was restrained. Now I clearly saw that God had provided 
me with these funds in order to make me willing to obey the 
call, and to save me from embarrassment in my travels. I 
could perceive a special reason why I had pressed forward so 
many years in my studies, and why revival texts and sermons 
had occupied so much of my time. God had thus been pre- 
paring me for a few campaigns in Europe. 

"The next day my soul was calm and happy. My books 
were unpacked, and everything in my study arranged with a 
glad heart and free. Eleven months were before me to criti- 
cise the impressions on my soul. With delight I commenced 
my pastoral work, visited from house to house, and had the 
pleasure of seeing a most powerful revival of religion in my 
circuit.'* 

Mr. Caughey obtained permission from his Conference to 
visit Europe in 1 840. He first visited Canada, where an ex- 
traordinary influence attended his ministry, especially in Mont- 
real and Quebec. Five hundred persons were converted. 

He landed in Liverpool in July, 1 84 1 . He visited the 
Wesleyan Conference, then in session in Manchester, then by 
invitation he went to Dublin, Ireland. The congregation the 
first night was very small, but the very gracious influence of 
the Spirit was manifest, and he was asked to continue the meet- 
ings. He did so, the congregations steadily and rapidly in- 
creasing, and at the end of a week he found himself sur- 



118 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

rounded by weeping penitents. "The glory of the Lord filled 
the house, and sinners were daily converted to God. We con- 
tinued the services in this chapel during four weeks. A select 
meeting was then appointed for the young converts, and one 
hundred and thirty came forward to testify that God for 
Christ's sake had pardoned all their sins.** 

"From that Sabbath his path opened clear as light before 
him, and his success was wonderful almost beyond precedent. 
He labored in Dublin, Limerick, Cork and Bandon, in Ire- 
land. Then re-crossing the channel, he held meetings in Liv- 
erpool, Leeds, Hull, Sheffield, Huddersfield, York, Birming- 
ham, Nottingham, Lincoln, Boston, Sunderland, Gateshead, 
Scarborough, Chesterfield, Doncaster, Macclesfield, Wake- 
field, etc., until 1847, when he thought it his duty to return 
to America. During the seven years of his stay in England 
and Ireland, nearly tn>eni})-iwo thousand persons professed 
conversion under his immediate labors, and nearly ten thousand 
entered into the rest of full salvation." 

"The church has many ministers of larger powers, more 
highly cultivated, and of higher intellectual rank, but whose 
successes in God's work will not bear comparison with those 
of Mr. Caughey. WTience then his superior power? Why 
did he win such victories in the church of God? We must at- 
tribute his surprising success to the Holy Spirit, who finds his 
instruments among the herdmen of Tekoa, or at the feet of 
Gamaliel, as His sovereign wisdom may decide. To this 
source Mr. Caughey himself ascribes the glory of his fruitful- 
ness. No candid man can peruse the pages of his diary with- 
out feeling himself moved to become a holier man, and a more 
earnest laborer in the vineyard of the Lord." 



COWPER. THE POET 



lAf ILLIAM COWPER was born in 1 731 . He was as 
^ quiet, gentle, tender creature as ever lived. His mother 
died when he was only six years old, and the dear little fellow 
was overwhelmed with sorrow. At his first school he was 
singled out by a lad of fifteen years as the butt of his cruel 
temper. The savage conduct of this youth so impressed him 
with a dread of his figure that he was afraid to lift his eyes 
upon him higher than his knees, and he knew him better by 
his shoe-buckles than by any other part of his dress. 

The poor afflicted boy did not become one whit happier 
when he became a student of law and was preparing to prac- 
tise at the bar. His good fortune in being presented to a lu- 
crative situation connected with the House of Lords only 
brought on insanity. His dread of the ordeal of examina- 
tion, as to fitness for his office, so preyed on his mind that he 
sought to destroy himself. Though formerly he had never 
been able to glance a single thought towards death without 
shuddering at the idea, he now wished for it, and found him- 
self but little shocked at the idea of procuring it for himself. 
One evening in November, 1 763, as soon as it was dark, he 
went into an apothecary's shop and asked for a half-ounce 
phial of laudanum. In doing this, he affected as cheerful 
and unconcerned an air as possible. The shopman eyed him 
narrowly, but he managed his voice and countenance so as to 
deceive him. The day that required his attendance at the 

119 



120 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

House of Lords was about a week distant, and he kept the 
bottle close in his side pocket, resolved to use it when he 
should be convinced there was no other way of escape. Thus 
he wished to protract the horrid execution of his purpose. But 
Satan, he says, was impatient of delay. So out he sallied one 
day into the fields, where he intended to find some house to 
die in; or, if not, determined to poison himself in a ditch, 
when he could meet \s'ith one sufficiently retired. Before he 
had walked a mile, the thought struck him that he might 
spare his life and transport himself to France. But while 
looking over his portmanteau with this view, the purpose of 
self-murder returned in all its force, and he hired a coach to 
drive him to Tower wharf, where he intended to throw himself 
into the river from the Custom House quay. But the tide 
was low, and there sat a porter on some goods as if to pre- 
vent him. "This passage to the bottomless pit (to use his 
own words) being mercifully shut against him, he returned 
to his chambers in the Temple, still intent on his purpose. 

But I will not follow the sad tale any further. My object 
in telling it is to show how miserable he was, and how untrue 
it is that religion drove him mad. At this time he had no re- 
ligion. But God interposed in mercy to disannul his cove- 
nant \\'ith death. And his efforts to destroy himself were 
frustrated by the providence which would have him live to 
learn Christ's love, and be a blessing to the world. Up to this 
time he had felt no concern of a spiritual kind. Now a new 
scene opened upon him. Conviction of sin took place. He 
felt that he had all the guilt of murder to answer for. A sense 
of God's wTath, and a deep despair of escaping it, instantly 
succeeded. The fear of death became now much stronger 
than the desire of it had been. His sins were set in array be- 
fore him. As he walked to and fro in his chamber he said 



William Cowper 121 

within himself, "There never was so abandoned a wretch — so 
great a sinner.** The story of the barren fig-tree was to him 
a source of inconceivable anguish. He applied it to himself, 
with a strong persuasion that, when the Savior pronounced a 
curse upon it. He had him in His eye, and pointed that curse 
at him. 

He wished for madness, poor man! and it came. Then 
followed five dreary months in an asylum. He threw away 
the Bible as a book in which he had no longer any interest or 
portion. The horrors which the poor maniac suffered cannot 
be conceived, far less described. A visit from his brother was 
the first means of his recovery. His company served to put 
to flight a thousand deliriums and delusions. The next morn- 
ing he found the cloud of horror which had so long hung over 
him was every moment passing away, and every moment came 
fraught with hope. **I was continually more and more per- 
suaded that I was not utterly doomed to destruction. The 
way of salvation was still, however, hid from my eyes, nor did 
I see it at all clearer than before my illness. I only thought 
that if it would please God to spare me, I would lead a bet- 
ter life, and that I would yet escape hell if a religious observ- 
ance of my duty would secure me from it. Thus may the ter- 
ror of the Lord make a Pharisee, but only the sweet voice of 
mercy in the Gospel can make a Christian. But the happy 
period which was to shake off my fetters, and afford me a 
clear opening of the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus was 
now arrived. I flung myself into a chair near the window, 
£Uid seeing the Bible there, ventured once more to apply to it 
for comfort and instruction. The first verse I saw was the 
25th of Romans, 3: *Whom God hath set forth to be a pro- 
pitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness 
for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance 



1 22 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

of God.' Immediately I received strength to believe it, and the 
full beams of the Sun of Righteousness shone upon me. I 
saw the sufficiency of the atonement he had made, my pardon 
sealed in His blood, and all the fulness and completeness of 
His justification. In a moment I believed and received the 
Gospel. Unless the Almighty arm had been under me, I 
think I should have died with gratitude and joy." 

After all this his insanity returned, in the shape of a false 
idea that God had passed a special decree respecting him, 
that, though he was a true believer in Christ, he should not 
he saved. Such another instance, he believed, was not to be 
found in the universe. And this mania made him miserable 
for many years. Yet he would never retract his testimony to 
the Gospel. And, though dead, he continues to speak in 
verse and song, when he says: 

"There is a fountain filled with blood. 
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins." etc. 

And ageun: 

"'God moves in a mysterious way, 
His wonders to perform ; 
He plants His footsteps in the sea. 
And rides upon the storm. 

"Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take : 
The clouds ye so much dread 
Are big with mercy, and shall break 
In blessings on your head." 

"His purposes will ripen fast. 
Unfolding every hour; 
The bud may have a bitter taste. 
But sweet will be the flower. 

"Blind unbelief is sure to err, 
And scan his work in vain : 
God is His own interpreter. 
And He will make it plain." 




Fanny Crosby 



FANNY CROSBY 

ALWAYS blind, except the first six weeks of her life, much 
that others depend upon for enjoyment was denied to her. 
Her dear grandmother instructed her in religious truth and the 
glories of nature. The Holy Bible became the meat and drink 
of her soul. She said: "When I was a child, this Book had 
a practical place in both home and nation. During these many 
years my love for the Holy Bible has not waned. Its truth 
was not only born with me; it was bred into my life. My 
mother and grandmother took pains that I knew the Bible bet- 
ter than any other book. All that I am, and all that I ever ex- 
pect to be, in literature or in life, is due to the Bible. This 
holy book nurtured my early life. When a girl, I could repeat 
from memory the five books of Moses, most of the New Testa- 
ment, many of the Psalms, the Proverbs of Solomon, the Book 
of Ruth, and that greatest of all prose poems, the Songs of 
Solomon.** 

Biblical characters and incidents furnished the theme and 
impulse of many of her poems and hymns. Flowers, trees, 
and grasses whispered poetic strains to her soul. Birds caroled 
of the Divine hand that made them. Rivers and rills rippled 
of streams of grace Divine. Early she began to give expres- 
sion in rhythm to her spirit*s visions and intuitions. 

At the age of fifteen, her prayer was answered for an edu- 
cational opportunity, and she was admitted to the Institution 
for the Blind in New York. Here she remained twenty-three 

125 



126 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

years, as student, then as teacher. Here she met Alexander 
Van Alstyne, a lover of music, also blind. They were hap- 
pily married, and to them was born an infant, which the angels 
soon took to heaven. 

Fanny Crosby cultivated a sunny dispositioil. She made 
up her mind that she would not allow her blindness to darken 
her life, render her useless and dependent, and sour her nature. 
Everywhere she went she scattered sunshine. This made her a 
welcome visitor in many homes. **I never let anything trouble 
me, and to my implicit faith, and to my implicit trust in my 
Heavenly Father*s goodness, I attribute my good health and 
long life. It's worth a thousand dollars a year to look on the 
bright side of things. Many a storm has beaten on this old 
bark of mine, but I always enter the harbor singing." 

Says Riley; 

"It ain't no use to grumble and complain, 
It's just as cheap and easy to rejoice. 
When Gk)d sorts out the weather an' sends rain, 
Wy, rain's my choice." 

Moreover, she was always industrious. Every day at ten 
she retired to her room, thought out a poem, with all its de- 
tails, until she was ready to dictate it to some assistant. When 
not otherwise employed, she would be busy knitting wash-rags 
to give to her friends. Idleness is the bane of happiness. Let 
one find his proper sphere of usefulness, fit himself well for it, 
execute his common duties with care, zeal and delight, and the 
horizon of his vision will widen and brighten, and his life de- 
velop steadily into a well-rounded circle of unselfish service 
and blessing to others. His years will be rich in friendships, 
and memory's walls will be hung with memy treasured scenes, 
viewed with constant pleasure in the sunset glow of declining 
years. Neither does such an one ever outgrow his usefulness, 



Fanny Crosbey 127 

or his companionship cease to be delightful to young and old. 

She had to depend so absolutely upon her memory that 
her ability to repeat exactly large portions of Scripture, her own 
hymns (numbering about eight thousand), very many gems of 
literature, and facts gathered from a broad field of study, was 
most remarkable. She often addressed large audiences in 
churches, Y. M. C. A. gatherings, and missions. She in- 
variably held a small booklet in her hand at such times, spoke 
readily and appropriately, and always pointed her hearers to 
the Lord. 

One evening in a mission meeting she felt impressed to 
urge any wandering youth present to return to his mother's God. 
A young man came forward, stated that he had promised to 
meet his mother in heaven, but that his present course was 
leading the other direction. They prayed with him until he 
found soul rest. Fanny went home, and before retiring com- 
posed *'Rescue the Perishing,** now sung round the world in 
various languages. 

Mrs. Joseph F. Knapp composed a melody, played it 
over two or three times on the piano, then asked Fanny what 
it said. She replied: 

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! 

Oh, what a foretaste of glory Divine! 
Heir of salvation, purchase of God, 

Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood." 

Her song, "Saved by Grace,** composed when she was 
seventy-one, was made famous by Mr. Sankey: 

"Some day the silver chord will break. 
And I no more as now shall sing; 
But oh. the joy. when I shall wake 

Witbin the palace of the King! 
And I shall see Him race to face. 

And tell the story — ^Saved by Grace!" 

**One day Mr. Doane came to me and said, *Fanny, I have 



128 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

a tune I would like to have you write words for.' He played 

it over, and I exclaimed, That says, *'Safe in the Arms of 

Jesus.** I went to my room, and in about thirty minutes I 

returned with the hymn that since has been a comfort and a 

solace to many heavy, sorrowing hearts: 

"Safe in the arms of Jesus, 
Safe on His gentle breast, 
There by His love o'ershaded. 

Sweetly my soul shall rest 
Har!v, 'tis the voice of angels. 

Borne in a song to me, 
Over the fields of glory, 
Over the jasper sea." 

Towards the close of a day in the year 1874, I was sit- 
ting in my room thinking of the nearness of God, through 
Christ, as the constzmt companion of my pilgrim journey, 
when my heart burst out with the words; 

"Thou my everlasting portion, 
More than friend or life to me; 
All along my pilgrim journey, 
Savior, let me walk with Thee." 

Her hymn, **Pass Me Not, O, Gentle Savior," has 
voiced the yearning of many souls, and helped them to a full 
and public surrender to the Lord. 

February 11, 1915, she seemed in usual hecJth. At 
nine p. m. she dictated a letter and p>oem of comfort to a 
friend bereft of a loved daughter. In the night a little noise 
in her room roused Mrs. Booth, v/ith whom she lived. She 
hastened to her, but in a few minutes the sightless singer 
slipped off to heaven before the doctors arrived. 

Thus closed her ninety-four beautiful years. Many call 
her blessed, and her ministry of living song continues. 

"Here let me wait with patience. 
W§lt till the night is o'er; 
Wait till I see the morning 
Pre/ik on the golden shore." 





Peter Cartwright 



PETER CARTWRIGHT 



PETER CARTWRIGHT is noted as one of the fore- 
most pioneer preachers of American Methodism. His 
notoriety rests not upon the fact that he was learned in books, 
for of education he had almost none. But his sound conver- 
sion and experience in entire sanctification, his rugged defense 
of the faith, his native shrewdness, his fitness to cope with the 
hardships of a pioneer preacher's life, and his unequaled ability 
to make every circumstance his servant in bringing souls to 
God, his quaint humor, and the marked anointing of the Holy 
Spirit resting upon him, distinguish him as an odd but chosen 
vessel of the Lord. 

He was born in Virginia in 1 785. His parents soon re- 
moved through the trackless forests, beset with prowling, 
threatening Indians, to the wilds of Kentucky, where they and 
other families hewed out homes and farms for themselves. No 
school was near. Each f'xmily raised its own food and spun 
its own cloth. Game from the woods supplied meat. They 
were a brave people, facing constant danger and enduring the 
worst hardships. Young Cart^vright lived a rough life, en- 
joyed horse-racing, gambling and dancing, and paid no regard 
to the Sabbath. He followed hi« reckless father's example. 
His father and brother and himself ^Dent a day and most of 
the night attending a wedding abou? five miles from home. 
After they reached home and put up the?r horses, he began to 
reflect on the reckless way in which he had -^pent the day. He 

131 



132 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

paced the floor in the anguish of conviction. The blood 
rushed to his head, he turned blind, and seemed to be dying. 
He fell on his knees and began crying to God for mercy. His 
mother soon came to his help. He sold his race-horse, burned 
his cards, and gave himself to reading the Bible and praying. 
Thus he continued for three months. 

Meanwhile the Great Cumberland revival was spreading 
all over that western country. It began about 1 80 1 or 1 802 
at a sacramental meeting appointed at Cane Ridge by some 
Presbyterian ministers. Seemingly unexpected by ministers or 
people, the power of God was mightily displayed. People 
in great numbers cried aloud for mercy. The meeting was 
protracted for weeks. Ministers flocked from far and near. 
Services were kept up night and day. At times the attendance 
swelled to twenty-five thousands of people. Hundreds fell 
prostrate, as if slain in battle. This was the first camp-meeting 
held in the United States, and from that time camp-meetings 
have spread all over the states and done an incalculable 
amount of good. 

To this camp-meeting Cartwright went in the anxious state 
of mind we have described. "On the Saturday evening I went 
with weeping multitudes, and bowed before the stand, and 
earnestly prayed for mercy. In the midst of a solemn strug- 
gle of soul, an impression was made on my mind, as though a 
voice said to me, *Thy sins are all forgiven thee.' Divine 
light flashed all around me; unspeakable joy sprung up in my 
soul. I rose to my feet, opened my eyes, and it really seemed 
as if I was in Heaven; the trees, the leaves on them, and 
everything, seemed praising God. My mother raised the 
shout, my Christian friends crowded around me and joined me 
in praising God. I have never, for one moment, doubted that 
the Lord did then and there forgive my sins." 



Peter Cartwright W3 

He joined the Methodists, attended the camp-meetings, 
and took an active part. He busied himself in soul-saving ef- 
forts, and exhorted when the Spirit led him to do so. He was 
given an exhorter's license, and the presiding elder gave him 
permission to organize a circuit in the new part of Kentucky 
to which he was moving. He did so, and organized a number 
of classes of converts. He went to school for a brief time, 
but was so persecuted on account of his religion that he gave 
it up. 

He was asked to take charge of a circuit. His mother 
was willing, but his father objected. To cut loose entirely 
from home, to put himself into the ranks where he might be 
sent far or near, with salary limited to eighty dollars, and the 
prospect of not receiving half that much per year, cost the 
youth of eighteen a struggle. "At last I literally gave up the 
world, and started, bidding farewell to father and mother, 
brothers and sisters, and met Brother Lotspeich at an appoint- 
ment m Logan County. He told me I must preach that night. 
This I had never done. Mine was an exhorter's license. I 
tried to beg off, but he urged me to make the effort. I went 
out and prayed earnestly for aid from Heaven. All at once 
it seemed to me as if I never could preach at all, but I strug- 
gled in prayer. At length I asked God, if He had called me 
to preach, to give me aid that night, and give me one soul as 
evidence that I was called to preach. 

**I took my stand, gave out a hymn, sang and prayed. I 
then rose, gave them for a text Isaiah 26: 4: 'Trust ye in the 
Lord forever; for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength.* 
The Lord gave light, liberty and power; the congregation was 
melted into tears. There was present a professed infidel. The 
Word reached his heart by the eternal Spirit. He was power- 



134 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

fully convicted, and soundly converted to God that night, and 
joined the church." 

Cartwright continued to preach with great power and unc- 
tion. The enduement of the Holy Ghost was upon him for 
this work in a marked manner. He became one of the might- 
iest camp-meeting preachers ever known in this country. A 
familiar scene at these camp-meetings is brought vividly before 
our eyes: "The encampment was lighted up, the trumpet 
blown, I rose in the stand and required every soul to leave 
the tents and come into the congregation. There was a gen- 
eral rush to the stand. I requested the brethren, if ever they 
prayed in all their lives, to pray now. My voice was strong 
and clear, and my preaching was more of an encouragement 
and exhortation than anything else. My text was, *The gates 
©f hell shall not prevail.' In about thirty minutes the power 
of God fell on the congregation in such a manner as is seldom 
seen; the people fell in every direction, right and left, front 
and rear. It was supposed that not less than three hundred 
fell like dead men in mighty battle, and there was no need of 
calling mourners, for they were strewed all over the camp- 
ground; loud wailings went up to Heaven from sinners for 
mercy, and a general shout from Christians, so that the noise 
was heard afar off.** 

"I traveled in the state of Ohio in 1806, and at a largely 
attended camp-meeting near New Lancaster there was a great 
work of God going on; many were pleading for mercy; many 
were getting religion, and the wicked looked so solemn and 
awful. The pulpit in the woods was a large stand; it would 
hold a dozen people. I kept it clear, that at any time I might 
occupy it for the purpose of giving directions to the congrega- 
tion. 



Peter Cartwright 1 33 

"There were two young ladies, sisters, lately from down 
East. They had been provided for on the ground in the tent 
of a very religious sister of theirs. They were very fashion- 
ably dressed. I think they must have had, in rings, ear-rings, 
bracelets, gold chains, lockets, etc., at least one or two hun- 
dred dollars* worth of jewelry about their persons. The altar 
was crowded to overflowing with mourners and these young 
ladies were very solemn. They met me at the stand, and asked 
permission to sit down inside it. I told them that if they would 
promise me to pray to God for religion, they might take a seat 
there. They were too deeply affected to be idle lookers-on, 
and when I got them seated in the stand I called them, and 
urged them to pray, and I called others to my aid. They be- 
came deeply engaged; and about midnight they were both 
powerfully converted. They rose to their feet and gave some 
very triumphant shouts, and then very deliberately took off 
their gold chains, ear-rings, lockets, etc., and handed them to 
me, saying, 'We have no more use for these idols. If religion 
is the glorious good thing you have represented it to be, it 
throws these idols into eternal shade.* ** 

**In 1810, when I was traveling in west Tennessee, at a 
camp-meeting I was holding, there was a great revival in prog- 
ress. At that time it was customary for gentlemen of fashion 
to wear ruffled shirts. There was a wealthy gentleman thus 
attired at our meeting, and he was brought under strong con- 
viction. I led him to the altar with the mourners, and he was 
much engaged. But it seemed there was something he would 
not give up. All on a sudden he stood erect on his knees, and 
with his hands he deliberately opened his shirt bosom, took 
hold of his ruffles, tore them off, and threw them down in the 
straw, and in less than two minutes God blessed his soul, and 
he sprang to his feet, loudly praising God. I state these cases 



136 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

to show that, unless the heart is desperately hardened through 
the deceitfulness of sin, there is a solemn conviction on all 
minds that fashionable frivolities are all contrary to the humble 
spirit of our Savior. We must remember that no idolator hath 
any inheritance in the kingdom of God. Let the Methodists 
take care.*' 

Let me quote some of the closing words of Cartwright, 
taken from his very interesting and helpful autobiography: 

"When I joined the church her ministers and members 
were a plain people — plain in dress and address. You could 
know a Methodist preacher by his plain dress as far as you 
could see him. The members were also plain — very plain in 
dress. They wore no jewelry, nor were they permitted to wear 
jewelry, or superfluous ornament, or extravagant dress of any 
kind, and this was the rule by which we walked, whether poor 
or rich, young or old; and although we knew then, as well as 
now, that the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ did not consist 
in dress, or the cut of the garment; yet we then knew, and 
know now, that extravagant dress and superfluous ornaments 
engender pride,^ and lead to many hurtful lusts, directly at war 
with that humility and godly example that becomes our rela- 
tion to Christ. Moreover, when we look about us, and see the 
perishing millions of our fallen race dying in their sins for the 
want of a preached Gospel, and that this Gospel is not sent to 
them for want of means to support the missionaries, may we 
not well question whether we are doing right in the sight of 
God in adorning our bodies with all this costly and extrava- 
gant dressing?** 

He pleads with the same earnest directness for a revival 
of family prayer, and lays the solemn duty upon the heads of 
families to gather their families about them, presenting their 
daily petitions and thanksgiving to God. 



Peter Cartwright 137 

He discourses upon the blessings that flow from the pub- 
He weekly prayer-meeting, and urges its faithful continuance. 
He bewails the neglect of attendance at the old-fashioned 
class-meeting, and sighs to see that blessed means of grace 
bowed out of Methodism. 

An incident or two will illustrate his quaint resourceful- 
ness in making his presence count for God. 

"It was one of our rules of the camp-meeting that the men 
were to occupy the seats on one side of the stand and the 
ladies on the other side at all hours of public worship. But 
there was a young man, finely dressed, with his bosom full of 
ruffles, that would take his seat among the ladies; and if there 
was any excitement in the congregation, he would rise to his 
feet, and stand on the seats prepared for the occupancy of the 
ladies. I reproved him several times, but he would still per- 
sist in his disorderly course. At length I reproved him per- 
sonally and sharply, and said, *I mean that young man there, 
standing on the seats of the ladies, with a ruffled shirt on.* 
And added, *I doubt not that ruffled shirt was borrowed.* 

"This brought him off the seats in a mighty rage. He 
swore he would whip me for insulting him. After a while I 
was walking around on the outskirts of the congregation, and 
he had a large company gathered round him, and was swear- 
ing at a mighty rate, and saying he would certainly whip me 
before he left the ground. 

"I walked up and said, 'Gentlemen, let me in here to this 
fellow.* They opened the way. I walked up to him and 
asked him if it was me he was cursing, and going to whip. 
He said it was. Said I, 'Well, we will not disturb the con- 
gregation fighting here, but let us go out into the woods, for if 
I am to be whipped I want it over, for I do not like to be in 
dread.' 



138 Men and Women of Oeep Piety 

*'So we started for the woods, the crowd pressing after 
us. I stopped and requested every one of them to go back, 
and not a man to follow, and assured them if they did not go 
back that I would not go another step; they then turned back. 
The camp-ground was fenced in. When we came to the fence 
I put my left hand on the top of the rail and leaped over. As 
I lighted on the other side one of my feet struck a grub, and I 
had well-nigh sprained my ankle; it gave me a severe jar, and 
a pain struck me in the left side from the force of the jar, and 
involuntarily I put my right hand on my left side, where the 
pain had struck me. My redoubtable antagonist had got on 

the fence, and looking down on me, said: *' you, you 

are feeling for a dirk, are you?* 

*'As quick as thought, it occurred to me how to get clear 
of a whipping. *Yes,* said I, *and I will give you the benefit 
of all the dirks I have,* and advanced rapidly toward him. 

*'He sprank back on the other side of the fence from me. 
I jumped over after him, and a regular foot-race followed. I 
was so diverted at my cowardly bully's rapid retreat that I 
could not run fcist, and I missed my whipping. 

"There was a large pond not very far from the camp- 
ground, and what few rowdies were there concluded they 
would take my bully and duck him in that pond as a punish- 
ment for his bad conduct. So they decoyed him off there, and 
they got a long pole, and stripped some hickory bark, and se- 
curing him on the pole, two of them, one at each end, waded 
in and ducked him nearly to death. He begged, and prayed 
them to spare his life. He promised them he would never 
misbehave at meeting again, and that he would immediately 
leave the ground if they would let him go. On these condi- 
tions they released him, and I got rid of my ruffle-shirted 
dandy. 



Peter Cartwright 1 39 

It may be asked what I would have done if this fellow 
had gone with me to the woods. This is hard to . answer, for 
it is part of my creed to love everybody, but to fear no one; 
and I did not permit myself to believe any man could wh*p 
me till it was tried, and I did not permit myself to premedi- 
tate expedients in such cases. I should, no doubt, have pro- 
posed to him to have prayer first, and then followed the open- 
ings of providence.*' 

When crossing the Cumberland mountains one time. Cart- 
wright was compelled to stop over night at a house where a 
dance was in progress. He sat in a corner watching the dance. 
He made up his mind to stay over the next day, which was 
Sabbath, and preach to them. Many of them had never heard 
a sermon. *'I had hardly settled this point in my mind," said 
he, **when a beautiful, ruddy young lady walked very grace- 
fully up to me, dropped a handsome courtesy, and pleasantly, 
with winning smile, invited me out to take a dance with her. 
I can hardly describe my thoughts or feeling on that occasion. 
However, in a moment I resolved on a desperate experiment. 
I rose as gracefully as I could; I will not say with some emo- 
tion, but with many emotions. The young lady moved to my 
right side; I grasped her right hand with my right hand, while 
she leaned her left arm on mine. In this position we walked 
on the floor. The whole company seemed pleased at this act 
of politeness in the young lady shown to a stranger. The col- 
ored man who was the fiddler began to put his fiddle in the 
best order. I then spoke to the fiddler to hold a moment, and 
added that for several years I had not undertaken any matter 
of importance without first asking the blessing of God upon it. 
and I desired now to ask the blessing of God upon this beau- 
tiful young lady, and the whole company, that had shov^ such 
an act of politeness to a total stranger. 



140 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"Here I grasped the young lady's hand tightly, and said, 
'Let us kneel down and pray,' and then instantly dropped on 
my knees, and commenced praying with all the power of soul 
and body that I could command. The young lady tried to 
get loose from me, but I held her tight. Presently she fell on 
her knees. Some of the company kneeled, some stood, some 
fled, some sat still — all looked curious. The fiddler ran off 
into the kitchen, saying, *Lord a marcy, what de matter? 
What is dat mean?' 

"While I prayed some wept, and wept aloud, and some 
cried for mercy. I rose from my knees and commenced an ex- 
hortation, after which I sang a hymn. The young lady who 
invited me on the floor lay prostrate, crying for mercy. I ex- 
horted again; I sang and prayed nearly all night. About fif- 
teen of that company professed religion, and our meeting lasted 
next day and next night, and as many more were powerfully 
converted. I organized a society, took thirty-two into the 
church, and sent them a preacher. My landlord was ap- 
pointed leader. This was the commencement of a great and 
glorious revival of religion in that region of the country, and 
several of the young men converted at the Methodist preacher's 
dance became useful ministers of Jesus Christ." 

In his meetings many persons were seized with the "jerks." 
He regarded them as a judgment sent of God to bring sinners 
to repentance. A drinking man, attempting to drink off the 
"jerks", was seized more violently than before, and broke his 
neck. 

The date of Peter Cartwright's death is unknown to the 
writer. He was still living at Pleasant Plains, Ills., in 1856, 
and like the grand old veteran that he was, in his seventy-first 
year, he was still pleading for the old paths. 



ANNE CUTLER 



ANNE CUTLER, known as "praying Nanny," was con- 
verted under the early labors of William Bramwell, and 
later was frequently in revival meetings with him. Like Anna, 
the prophetess of the Lord's day, she gave herself to fasting 
and prayer. A holy trail of revival awakening and salvation 
attended her. With extraordinary anointing for prayer, she 
travailed in birth for souls, night and day, praying exceed- 
ingly, and the Lord let her see of the travail of her soul many 
hundreds brought from darkness into light. We need not wait 
to be called to preach. The Lord has called us, and ordained 
us to go and bring forth fruit, and each one has at least one 
talent which, if improved by faithful use, will, like the jaw- 
bone of the ass, accomplish wonders under Divine management. 

The following consecration of Anne Cutler was renewed 
every day, thus keeping her union with God unbroken, and her 
experience bright as the sun. 

"Blessed Father, loving Jesus, Holy Spirit! I give my 
body and soul into Thy hands. Have Thy whole will in me; 
use me to Thy glory, and never let me grieve Thy Spirit. I 
will be Thine every moment; and all that Thou art is mine. 
We are fully united; we are ONE; and I pray that we may 
be one forever. I give myself again to Thee. Give Thyself 
again to me. 

"Father. I reverence Thy majesty, and sink before Thee. 

141 



142 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Thou art a holy God. I submit my all to Thee. I live under 
Thy inspection, and wonder at Thy glory every moment. 

"Blessed Jesus! Thou art my constant friend and com- 
panion. Thou art always with me. We walk together in 
the nearest union. I can talk to Thee as my Mediator. Thou 
showest me the Father, and I am lost in beholdmg His glory. 
Thou takest me out and bringest me in. Thou art with me 
wherever I go. Mine eyes are upon Thee as my pattern and 
continual help! 

"Holy Spirit! Thou art my Comforter. I feel for Thee 
a constant, burning love. My heart is set on fire by Thy 
blessed influence. I pray by Thy power. It is through Thee 
I am brought to Jesus; through Jesus I am swallowed up in 
what I call glory; and I Ccoi say, 'Glory be to the Father, 
glory be to the Son, and glory be to the Holy Ghost ! ' 

"I have union with the Trinity thus: I see the Son through 
the Spirit; I find the Father through the Son, and God is my 
all 2uid in all!" 




Jonathan Edwards 



JONATHAN EDWARDS 



' *\Y/E will agree in Eissigning to Jonathan Edwards a high- 
^^ est rank in the galaxy of our religious heroes, and in 
recognizing him as the mightiest embodiment of spiritual force 
that our country has seen. In honoring the man we honor that 
for which he stood; and surely Jonathan Edwards stood for 
nothing more strenuously and consistently than for the convic- 
tion that the salvation of a people depends on the vitality of its 
religion, and that a nation's material prosperity will in the end 
work its ruin, if the spiritual forces do not assert themselves in 
its life, and if it fails to become fast-anchored to the rock of a 
living faith in a living God.** 

The first colonists of New England were ardent and strenu- 
ous souls, aliens in a new world, shut up with the horror and 
pathos of their exile, exposed to real and visionary dreads, in a 
vast and silent country. Sacrificing so much that they might 
worship God unmolested, according to the dictates of their con- 
sciences, they bequeathed to their posterity a rich and tre- 
mendous heritage. By the time of the birth of Jonathan Ed- 
wards, their noble aims were well-nigh achieved. Religion, 
education, hard industry, prosperity cuid true piety were found 
in her hamlets and growing cities. 

From childhood he was nurtured in a religious atmos- 
phere, his father being a minister in Connecticut. He lived a 
blameless child-life, being very conscientious. He and two 
other boys retired regularly for social prayer to a booth built 

145 



146 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

in a secluded spot for the purpose. He began the study of 
Latin at six, his father and sisters teaching him. It came easily 
to him, for on both sides his people were lovers of learning and 
true piety. 

He graduated with honors from Yale when he was seven- 
teen. He received his degree at nineteen, and became one of 
the instructors at Yale, also continuing his studies. About the 
same time he was licensed to preach. When he was little more 
than twenty-three years old, he was ordained and installed as 
pastor at Northampton (February, 1727). A few months 
later he **was married to Sarah Pierrepont, a girl of seventeen, 
among whose ancestors on both sides were eminent ministers. 
She was a woman of uncommon beauty and acquirement, at- 
tractive in manner, gifted in management, and deeply religious. 
In this place the eleven children of Edwards were born ; one of 
them died here, and two were married in his house. Here he 
discharged the duties of his holy office for more than twenty- 
three years.*' 

Northam.pton was as a city set on a hill, the center of the 
great revival known as the "Great Awakening.** Edwards 
did not witness as many accessions to the church as his prede- 
cessor, for most of the towns-people were already enrolled on 
the church record, but a great proportion of them needed their 
name recorded in the Lamb*s Book of Life. This was accom- 
plished in the mighty and repeated revivals which marked the 
faithful ministry of Edwards. Those were days when the ter- 
rors of the law of God were preached unsparingly. People*s 
ears were not so delicate, nor their minds so skeptical concern- 
ing eternal punishment of the wicked. Accordingly, when he 
preached at Enfield, as he journeyed through the town, irre- 
pressible conviction seized the hearers, and five hundred were 
converted in one day. 



Jonathan Edwards 147 

Yet Edwards was not an evangelist. He lived a "lofty 
and rapt existence, apart, unearthly. His nature was so rare 
and fine, with its interest in things remote, unseen and holy; 
the detachment from earth was so complete that his feet were 
as the feet of an angel when he touches the ground. It was 
the life of a scholar — meditative, solitary in a manner, without 
many books; ascetic, remote, untraveled, mystical." Occa* 
sionally he preached in a neighboring pulpit, and attained a 
wide fame. His great work was preaching. Socially he was 
a failure. He made no pastoral calls except in urgent cases 
of need. He seemed to live in a realm apart from the common 
life. He could not readily converse on common themes. His 
mind was occupied with reasonings in Divine things. 

He was not a stormy orator. He spoke quietly, and with 
little gesture. His manner was inimitable, his power indescrib- 
able. His eyes seemed to have an unearthly vision. He was 
calm, pale, ascetic, earnest, confident, authoritative, serious. His 
face was illumined. 

His wife was a woman of remarkable spiritual intuition 
and heavenly anointing. Her prayers, her counsel, and her 
life were a constant inspiration to her husband. Many times 
the revelation of Divine love to her soul was so overwhelming 
that she sank motionless to the floor or in her seat. 

It was the time of long pastorates. A minister was sup- 
posed to be settled for life in a locality, and unless some grave 
offense occurred, he remained until ill-health or old age un- 
fitted him for public work, when he retired with honor. 

It is with surprise and regret, therefore, that we read of 
his removal from the pastoral work at Northampton in 1 750. 
Love, confidence and loyalty were his due from the people, 
many of whom were his spiritual children. Instead, reproach 
and ingratitude were heaped upon him. His preaching was in 



1 48 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

their estimation too severe and unsparing, his standard of holy 
livmg too high, unattainable, and impractical. The seasons of 
gracious revival helped the people to lay aside their prejudxes. 
until finally some famous cases of church discipline brought the 
opposition to a head, and resulted in ousting Edwards. 

Edwards' stand against the reading of forbidden books in- 
volved many of the young people. His popularity thereupon 
declined. He declared his position concerning the qualifica- 
tions for communion at the Lord's Supper. It had been the 
custom to administer the sacrament to all who came, whether 
worthy or not, and the teaching followed that the Lord's Sup- 
per was a channel of converting grace. Edwards, like John 
the Baptist, insisted that fruits meet for repentance were neces- 
sary, and refused the elements to those who would not make a 
reasonable confession of religion. Thus the storm burst, and 
finally he was dismissed. 

Edwards bore the trial in a Christlike spirit. Many cir- 
cumstances made it a bitter experience for a man of proud and 
sensitive nature to be dismissed from his church with so many 
signs of impatience and disrespect. But throughout the whole 
affair the bearing of Edwards was dignified, noble, admirabk. 
In letters, journals, writings, addresses, in his incomparable 
farewell sermon, there is no anger, petulence, vindictive pas- 
sion. He does not pose as a martyr. It is a manly sorrow. 
His last word is a message marvelous for self-control, full of 
peace, counsel, conciliation, so admirable in its spirit. Christ- 
like, tender, that it is in our hearts as we read to revere and 
love the man." 

From 1751 to 1758 he was a missionary to the Indians, 
and at the time of his death he was president of Princeton Uni- 
versity. His memory is cherished by both Yale and Princeton. 
He died at Princeton. N. J., in 1 758. 




Francois Fenelon 



FRANCOIS FENELON 



THE name Francis Fenelon has become the synonoym for 
charm, gentleness, refinement, brilliant scholarship and 
devout piety. Few have excelled him in genuine piety, and 
the lustre of his saintliness shines undimmed by the flight of 
two centuries. 

He was born of a noble family, in Chateau Fenelon, Peri- 
gord, France, in 1 65 1 . His education was conducted at 
home until he was twelve years old. He then was sent to 
the University of Cahors, then to the Jesuit College in Paris. 
His success in his studies was remarkable, and he closed a 
brilliant college career at the age of twenty. One of his 
teachers was the pious Tronson, a Mystic, whose teachings 
made a deep religious impression on Fenelon. 

At twenty-four he was ordained a Catholic priest. He 
and his mother favored his going 'as a missionary to Asia or 
Canada, but his frail health and the arguments of an uncle 
dissuaded them. In 1675 he was called to be director of a 
convent in Paris, where he remained ten years. He was then 
sent to Poitou to crush the advance of Protestantism. Although 
he was a loyal Catholic, he was not blind to its abuses, and 
refused to employ force to crush reform doctrines. His kind- 
ness won many. 

His services as teacher were rewarded by him being made 
Archbishop of Cambray, and he was fast rising to fame. The 
king and all the court did him honor. But an acquaintance 

151 



152 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

was formed which was not to their Hking. He visited Madam 
Guyon, as did many others, to learn more perfectly her teach- 
ings concerning entire abandonment to God. Through her 
efforts, he passed through an epoch in his experience. For 
eight days Madam Guyon had a great burden of prayer for 
him. She wrote: "So deep and absorbing has been the ap- 
plication of my soul to God on your account that I slept but 
little during the past night. The prayer that I offer for you is 
not the work of the creature. It is not a prayer self-made, 
formal, and outward. It is the voice of the Holy Spirit, ut- 
tering itself in the soul, an inward voice, that man cannot pre- 
vent or control. The Holy Spirit prays with effect." Truly 
it was soul-travail of prevailing prayer. Fenelon abandoned 
himself absolutely to the will of God. The anointing rested 
upon him in a remarkable degree. It is said that the skeptical 
Lord Peterborough was compelled to lodge over night in an 
inn, in the same room with Fenelon. In the morning he rushed 
away, saying, "If I stay with that man another day, I will 
be a Christian in spite of myself." 

Twenty-three maxims from Fenelon's Max\n:es des Saints 
were condemned by the Pope. In all the storm of controversy 
against him, his character shone forth radiant in the beauty 
of holiness. He was never haughty in success nor saddened 
by disappointment or persecution, taking ail as m Gods wise 
providence to perfect His work within him. 

He died in 1715, mourned by his flock, who dearly loved 
him, and had profited by his faithful ministry. 

Faber's beautiful lines well express the constant soul- 
attitude of Fenelon: 

"He always wins who sides witli God, 
.- . To him no chance is lost; 

God's will is sweetest to him when 
It triumphs at his cost." 



it;- 



'^^ 



^%s. 






c^ 




CHARLES G. FINNEY 



NO Christian lullabyes or songs of David ever greeted the 
childish ears of Charles Grandison Finney, for he was 
reared in a prayerless home along the frontier in New York 
and Connecticut. As settlements enlarged, and closed in 
nearer their home, they moved on. Rarely did they hear any 
preaching, and that would generally be some wretched per- 
vers'on of the truth that edified but little and saved none. 

He was born in Litchfield County, Conn., August 29, 
I 792. Notwithstanding the frequent migrations of the fam- 
ily, he obtained a good common school education, and became 
a school teacher. He taught and studied for six years, part 
of the time under the instruction of a graduate of Yale, then 
entered the law office of Mr. Wright, in Adams, N. Y. Here 
he attended religious services regularly, but the preaching was 
of that monotonous, unimpassioned type, that expects no re- 
sults and, of course, produces none. The doctrines presented 
were hyper-Calvinistic, leaving the guilty soul utterly helpless, 
the innocent victim of a cruel, arbitrary election, that destined 
some irrevocably to salvation and others to damnation. 

The prayer-meetings which young Finney attended were 
of the same uninspiring character. People prayed over and 
over for the same things, but never received any answers, and 
seemed to put the blame on God that religion was at such a 
low ebb. When the church-members asked Finney at one 
service if he did not desire them to pray for him, he replied, 

155 



156 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"No", because he did not see that God answered their prayers. 
**I suppose that I need to be prayed for — for I am conscious 
that I am a sinner — but I do not see that it will do any good 
for ijou to pray for me, for you are continually asking, and do 
not receive. You have prayed enough since I have attended 
these meetings to have prayed the devil out of Adams, if there 
is any virtue in your prayers. But here you are, praying on, 
and complaining still." 

Some young people agreed together to pray for Finney's 
conversion, among them the young lady who became his wife 
later. But the pastor was faithless, and discouraged them, 
saying he did not believe the young man would ever be con- 
verted, he had already sinned against so much light. 

But he was mistaken. The youth had not yet received 
much light. He was groping after light, and should have 
found it in the preaching, and in the prayer-meetings. His at- 
tention was drawn to the Scriptures by the frequent references 
to them in his law studies. So for the first time he purchased 
a copy for himself, and studied it along with his other books. 

He began to be restless, and to realize he was a lost soul, 
unprepared to meet God. He discovered in the Bible the 
great truths of salvation, purchased for all who repent and be- 
lieve. One Sabbath evening early in October, 1 82 1 , when 
he was past twenty-nine years old, Finney resolved to seek sal- 
vation. He began to read his Bible more humbly, and to 
pray earnestly. But he stopped up the keyholes, lest some one 
should know when he prayed. He slipped his Bible under 
his law books, lest it should be suspicioned that he searched it 
diligently. Wednesday morning God asked him, "WTiat are 
you waiting for? Did you not promise to give your heart to 
God?" He was in the street, on his way to the office. The 
sufficiency of the atonement seemed revealed to his mind as 



Charles G. Finney 157 

never before, and salvation by faith his blessed privilege. 
"Will you accept it now^ — toda^?^' the Lord asked him. **I 
will accept it today, or I will die in the attempt.'* He started 
for the woods, but again his fears lest someone discover his 
intent caused him to skulk along. He found a place far into 
the woods, enclosed by fallen trees. Here he closeted himself 
to pray. But, strange to him, he could not pray successfully. 
God seemed far off, and every rustling of twig or leaf startled 
him. He had vowed to stay until he found peace of mind. 
Now he began to regret that he had thus resolved. 

Hearing a noise, and pausing to know if anyone was over- 
hearing his praying, the wicked pride of his heart dawned upor. 
h's consciousness. "An overwhelming sense of the wickedness 
of being ashamed to have a human being see me on my knees 
before God took powerful possession of me. The sin ap- 
peared awful, infinite! Such a degraded sinner as I, on my 
knees, confessing my sins to a great and holy God, and 
ashamed to have any human being, and a sinner like myself, 
find me on my knees, endeavoring to make my peace with an 
offended God! It broke me down before the Lord. I cried 
at the top of my voice that I would not leave that place if all 
the men on earth and all the devils in hell surrounded me.** 
His tongue was loosed, his heart melted.* It was his Bethel, 
for God was near! With the grasp of a drowning man, he 
seized upon the promise, "Then shall ye seek for me and find 
me when ye shall search for me with all your heart.'* Thus 
he continued pouring out his heart and obtaining promises un- 
til he had nothing more to pray for. A quiet peace stole into 
his heart, and he started off toward town, saying, "If ever I 
am converted I will preach the Gospel.** It was noon. He 
had spent the whole forenoon alone with God! Unspeakable 
repose possessed his spirit. But he began to upbraid himself 



158 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

that he, a wretched sinner, should feel no more concern about 
his sins. In singing a hymn, his soul was melted, and he wept. 
At nightfall the squire went home leaving him alone in the 
office. He built a fire in the front office and went into the 
rear room to pray. 

"There was neither light nor fire in the room; nevertheless 
it suddenly appeared perfectly light. As I went in and shut 
the door after me, it seemed to me I met the Lord Jesus Christ 
face to face. I have always regarded this as a most remark- 
able state of mind, for it seemed to me a reality that He stood 
before me, and I fell down at His feet and poured out my 
soul to Him. I wept aloud like a child, and made such con- 
fessions as I could with my choked utterance. It seemed to 
me that I bathed His feet with my tears. I must have con- 
tinued in that state a good while. I returned to the front of- 
fice and found that the fire was nearly burned out. But as I 
turned, and was about to take a seat by the fire, / received a 
mighty baptism with, the Hol"^ Ghost. Without any expecta- 
tion of it, without ever having the thought in my mind that 
there was any such thing for me, without any recollection that 
I had ever heard the thing mentioned by any person in the 
world, the Holy Spirit descended upon me in a manner that 
seemed to go through me, body and soul. I could feel the 
impression like a wave of electricity going through and through 
me. Indeed, it seemed to come in waves and waves of liquid 
love. It seemed like the very breath of God. 

**No words can express the wonderful love that was shed 
abroad in my heart. I wept aloud with joy and love, and do 
not know but I should say I literally bellowed out the unutter- 
able gushings of my heart. These waves came over me and 
over me and over me, until I cried out: 'I shall die if these 



Charles G. Finney 1 59 

waves continue to pass over me. Lord, I cannot bear any 
more! 

The next morning these wonderful manifestations of the 
Holy Ghost to his soul were repeated. Again he wept, and 
poured out his soul to God. 

This marvelous effusion of the Spirit so soon after his 
conversion, and without his definitely seeking it, is a marvelous 
and extraordinary manifestation of God, reminding one forc- 
ibly of Paul's experience. We may ask ourselves why it was 
so. Undoubtedly Finney made an absolute, irrevocable aban- 
donment of himself as he sought God out in the woods. There 
was nothing to hinder God*s fullest approval coming upon him. 
Also, it is the privilege, and more than that, it is the duty, of 
every child of God to be filled with the Spirit. If it require 
little or much seeking, none should rest short of the baptism 
of the Holy Ghost. In addition to this, God had chosen Fin- 
ney, as He had Paul, for a great work. His mighty intellect 
and large soul powers were to be instruments in God*s hands 
of turning many thousands to salvation. 

Finney was leader of the church choir. One of the mem- 
bers of the choir came into the office Wednesday evening and 
found him weeping aloud. When asked if he was in pain, 
Finney replied, **No, but so happy that I cannot live." He 
hurriedly brought in an elder of the church. While Finney 
was relating to them his experience, another came in. The 
latter soon cried out in agony, "Pray for me," and soon found 
pardon. When the squire came in the next day Finney said 
a few words to him about his soul, which pierced as an arrow. 
He left the office, and had no peace until he surrendered to 
God. Finney went out and talked to whoever he met. A 
young Universalist left him, broke for the woods, and found 
salvation. At the tea-table in the evening, in asking the bless- 



1 60 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ing, the spirit of prayer came upon him, a young whiskey dis- 
tiller left the table, locked himself in his room, and stayed 
there until delivered from his sins. 

In the evening, by common consent, folks flocked to the 

church, though no meeting had been announced. Mr. C 

had said repeatedly, *'If religion is true, why don't you con- 
vert Finney? If you Christians can convert Finney I will be- 
lieve in religion." Old lawyer M said of Finney's con- 
version, "It is all a hoax." But here they were in the church 
with the crowd. The minister also was there, but kept his 
seat. When Finney arrived he saw the situation, went for- 
ward, and gave his frank, earnest testimony. Mr. C got 

up and left, forgetting his hat. Old lawyer M left, say- 
ing, "He is in earnest; there is no mistake, but he is clearly 
deranged." 

The pastor arose and humbly confessed his former lack of 
faith for Finney's conversion. Then Firmey led in prayer. 
The meetings continued, and soon all the young people but 
one, with whom he associated, were brought into salvation. 

He went to visit his father, greeting him with the words, 
"Father, you are an old man. All of your children have 
grown up, and have left your house, and I never heard a 
prayer in my father's house." The father burst into tears, 
saying, "I know it, Charles. Come in and pray yourself." 
The result was the conversion of both his parents. 

Love to God and zeal for souls so consumed Finney that 
he scarcely took time to eat or sleep. The Spirit was upon 
him in a marvelous manner, and some very precious revela- 
tions of God were granted to him. His law business became 
odious, and he turned clients away. Travail of soul was re- 
peatedly upon him, for he gave himself to prevailing prayer. 
Daily a prayer-meeting was held before dawn. He became a 



Charles G. Finney 161 

prince in Israel, a true prevailer. How few, even in the holi- 
ness ranks, know anything about true soul-travail! Zion is at 
ease. Let her give herself to prayer, and she shall be fruitful. 
When Zion travails she brings forth. 

Finney was urged to go to Princeton to study theology, 
and an offer was made to pay his way. But he declined to 
go, because he was firmly persuaded that their system of the- 
ology was all wrong. He could not believe in a limited 
atonement, in the election of a chosen few to salvation and of 
the others to damnation, do what they would. He therefore 
hammered out a theology on his knees with his open Bible. 
He used the pastor's library, but it was eJl Calvanistic, and 
Finney took issue with the preacher on every important point 
of doctrine. Many and long were their discussions, and Mr. 
Gale told him, after he preached once, that he would be 
ashamed for him to say that he had studied theology under him. 
Finney might have added that he studied it in spite of him, 
and would be ashamed also to say that he was a pupil of his. 
for the man's theology was a veritable straight- jacket to him, 
and he admitted that he never led a soul to God! Later he 
acknowledged that he had never been converted. We rejoice 
that Finney had an independent mind, and sense enough to re- 
ject a system of teaching which leaves man absolutely helpless 
even to repent, and charges God with all the sins of mankind. 

Finney had acquired the habit, in his law studies, of prov- 
ing each point in detail, and taking nothing for granted. This 
method he pursued in his preaching, and it was very accept- 
able to lawyers, doctors, and thinking men. 

A judge once remarked, "Ministers do not exercise good 
sense in addressing the people. They use language not well 
understood by the common people. They are afraid of repe- 
tition. Their illustrations are not taken from the common pur- 



162 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

suits of life. Now, if lawTers should use such a course, they 
would ruin themselves and their cause. Our object is not to 
display our oratory, but to convince the jury, and get a verdict 
on the spot. Now, if ministers would do this, the effects of 
their ministry would be unspeakably different from what they 
are. 

Finney used the same earnest, compact, logical style in 
preaching as he had in law. 

Said he: "Great sermons lead the people to praise the 

preacher. Good preaching leads the people to praise the 

S»» 
avior. 

**God gave him one of the most valuable physical qualifi- 
cations of a great orator — a majestic and commanding pres- 
ence. He was six feet in stature, ^^^th a stately and imposing 
frame, a piercing eagle eye, and a most kingly mien. He had 
a voice of rare clearness, compass and flexibilit>', which he 
used in a most natural and forceful way. He was entirely 
free from mannerism; his intonation and emphasis were per- 
fect, and his voice and face and action were always in har- 
mony with whatever great thought or feeling he was aiming 
to express. His unstudied gestures were the perfection of 
grace. One might have supposed that he had spent years with 
the masters of elocution and ^^^th leaders of dramatic art. 
His mind was subtle and keen, and his logic relentless. He 
had that rare balance of faculties, great reasoning powers, 
with a quick and ready imagination, a stern loyalty to duty 
and obligation, and a Divine compassion for the erring. He 
could thunder the terrors of the law ^^^th appalling power, and 
then turn and offer the mercy of the Gospel with the tender- 
ness and tears of Jeremiah or Christ. He was scrupulously 
neat in his person and gentlemanly in all his instincts," 



Charles G. Finney 163 

He began his evangelistic work very humbly. He 
preached in school-houses, barns or groves, wherever the Lord 
opened a door. At Evans Mills the people thronged to the 
services, and seemed greatly pleased with his preaching. But 
Finney was not in the business of entertaining, and he desired 
results. He pressed them to decision, telling those who were 
willing to surrender to God to arise, and those who determined 
to reject Jesus Christ to remain sitting. They were enraged. 
As he dismissed them, he declared that they, by sitting still, 
had rejected Christ and His Gospel. They were cornered. 
He spent the next day in fasting and prayer, then poured the 
truth on again. He dismissed this time without giving a call 
to repent. But all night people were sending for him to pray 
for them. One woman lay helpless and speechless for six- 
teen hours, then came through singing a song of salvation. An 
infidel, who stoutly resisted, fell dead. 

Here Father Nash was greatly revived, and called to a 
life of intercession. He joined himself with Finney, kept a 
prayer list, and was no doubt the secret of much of Finney's 
marvelous success. He did not preach, and often did not go 
to the meetings, but remained in his room, or in the woods, 
wrestling with God in mighty prayer. Often before daybreak 
people could hear Father Nash half a mile or more in the 
woods, or in a church, praying, and the sense of God*s pres- 
ence was overwhelming. It impressed people with the reality 
of God's call to salvation. When any man or set of men op- 
posed the work. Father Nash and Finney . would unite in 
prayer and fasting, taking seige after seige at the throne of 
grace until victory came. 

Said Finney: "I was constrained to pray without ceasing. 
A spirit of importunity sometimes came upon me that I would 
say to God that He had made a promise to answer prayer. 



164 Men and Women qf Deep Piety 

and I could not, and would not, be denied. I felt so certain 
that he would hear me that frequently I found myself saying 
to Him: 'I hope Thou dost not think that I can be denied. 
I come with Thy faithful promises in my hand, and I cannot 
be denied.' I cannot tell how absurd unbelief looked to me, 
and how certain it was, in my mind, that God would answer 
those prayers that from day to day I was offering in such 
agony and faith. My impression was that the answer was 
near, even at the door; and I felt myself strengthened in the 
Divine life, and expected soon to see a far more powerful out- 
pouring of the Spirit of God." 

Mr. Abel Clary, converted about the same time as Fin- 
ney, was licensed to preach also. But he had such a burden 
of prayer that he could not preach much, his whole time and 
strength being given to prayer. He would writhe and groan 
in agony, unable to stand under the weight. He was at 
Rochester, N. Y., some days praying for Finney before Fin- 
ney knew he was there. TTie man with whom he stayed said, 
"He cannot go to the meetings. He prays nearly all the time, 
night and day, and in such agony that I do not know what to 
make of it. Sometimes he cannot even stand on his knees, but 
will lie prostrate on the floor, and groan and pray in a manner 
that quite astonishes me. Father Nash and three deacons 
were at the same time giving themselves to prayer. Is it any 
wonder that God awakened the community for miles around?" 
People came from neighboring towns and hamlets, and car- 
ried the fire home with them. Everywhere he went, hundreds 
were converted and joined the churches. One hundred thou- 
sand were reported as having joined various churches as a re- 
sult of that revival. 

Finney did not slate his dates for ten days or two weeks, 
but entered a place to besiege it in the name of the Lord, re- 



Charles G. Finney 1 65 

maining many weeks. He was at Rochester six months. In 
New York City he labored the first time for one year, promi- 
nent lawyers and business men finding God. 

Everywhere his work was owned of God, until he was no 
longer an obscure evangelist, but known the world over as a 
man chosen of God to awaken slumbering consciences and 
bring men to God. 

He was sharply criticised by the ministry, especially in 
New England. Here an organized effort was headed by two 
ministers of national repute to oust Finney from all the pulpits 
and turn the minds of the people against him, but in vain. 
Finney went right on in the path of duty, and God continued 
to own him. He was criticised for calling people publicly to 
declare their surrender to God by arising, or, where conven- 
ient, to come forward to the anxious seat, or in large assem- 
blies, to meet him in appointed rooms or hall, where they 
would be instructed and prayed for. One of the calamities 
bewailed by his opposers was that females were encouraged 
to pray and exhort publicly. 

His memoirs are a continuous narrative that hold the in- 
terest of the reader spellbound. We may relate only an inci- 
dent or two of marked interest: 

**A wicked man kept a low tavern, and his bar-room 
was the resort of all the opposers of the revival — a place of 
blasphemy — and its owner was a railing, abusive man. He 
would take particular pains to swear and blaspheme whenever 
he saw a Christian. Father Nash put this man*s name on his 
prayer list. 

*'One night this notorious sinner came to church. Many 
people feared and abhorred him, and, supposing he had come 
in to make a disturbance, retired from the church. Finney 
says, 'I kept my eye on him, and very soon became satisfied 



166 Men and Women of Deep Fiety 

he had not come in to make a disturbance, but was in great 
anguish of mind. He sat and writhed on his seat, and was 
very uneasy. He soon arose, and tremblingly asked if he 
might say a few words. He proceeded to make one of the 
most heartbroken confessions I ever heard, telling how he had 
treated God, and Christieins, and the revival, and everything 
good. It broke up the fallow ground in many hearts, and was 
the most powerful means to give impetus to the work. He 
abolished the profanity and revelry in his house, and a prayer- 
meeting was held in his bar-room nearly every night.* ** 

Invited by an old man to preach in a neighboring school- 
house, Finney went. He gave out a hymn, which the throng 
bawled out in a distressing way. Then he prayed earnestly, 
and arose, immediately preaching from the text the Lord had 
just given him on his knees, "Up, get you out of this place, 
for the Lord will destroy this city.*' As he used the story of 
Abraham, Lot, and the destruction of Sodom, he observed 
the people looking very angry. Suddenly an awful solemnity 
fell upon the assembly, and the congregation fell from their 
seats, crying for mercy. "If I had had a sword in each hand 
I could not have cut them off as fast as they fell. I think the 
whole congregation were on their knees or prostrate in two 
minutes. Everyone prayed for himself who could speak at 
all." Finney directed them to the merciful God. The ex- 
planation was that the old man who had invited him was the 
only righteous person in the place, and was nick-named Lot. 
The community was so desperately wicked that it was called 
Sodom. Hence their anger, then conviction at the application 
of the truth. 

"The village hotel was kept by Dr. S , a confirmed 

and avowed Universalist. The next day after the first ser- 
mon, Finney found all the Universalists and their leader. Dr. 



Charles G. Finney 167 

S , in a shop, and intent on having a debate on the sub- 
ject. Finney agreed, but insisted on preliminary conditions, 
to take up one point at a time, that they should not interrupt 
one another, and that there should be only candor and cour- 
tesy in debate. 

Finney showed that endless punishment was a Bible doc- 
trine. The Universalist held that endless punishment was un- 
just, and that if the Bible taught it it could not be true. Fin- 
ney then closed in with him on the justice of endless punish- 
ment. Soon the friends became greatly agitated, then one 
left the shop, then another, smd another, until the leader was 
left alone. When he had nothing more to say, Finney tenderly 
urged him to attend to his personal salvation, and then kindly 
bade him good-morning. 

The doctor went home from that conversation, walked his 
house in agony, and finally told his wife, with tears, that Fin- 
ney had turned his weapons on his own head. He soon sur- 
rendered to Christ. In a few days his companions, one after 
another, were brought in, till the revival made a clean sweep 
of them.** 

One elder, after his conversion, was asked how he got 
this blessing. Said he, *'I stopped lying to God.** 

A minister*s wife was converted. She was under such 
conviction for several days that it was feared she would go 
insane. Finally she found pardon, and rushing from her room, 
her face all aglow, she exclaimed, **Oh, Mr. Finney, I have 
found the Savior! Don*t you think that it was the ornaments 
in my hair that stood in the way of my conversion? I found 
when I prayed they w^oiild come up before me. I was driven 
to desperation. I said, *I will not have these things come up 
again. I will put them away from me forever.' As soon as I 
had promised that, the Lord revealed Himself ic my soul.*' 



168 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

A brother-in-law of Mr. Finney was superintendent of a 
cotton factory. Finney preached one evening in the school- 
house there. The next morning he was being shown through 
the factory. Many of the workers became agitated. A young 
woman tried to mend a broken thread, but her hand trembled 
so she could not. Finney looked solemnly at her. She sank 
down and burst into tears. Soon all in the room were in tears, 
and the owner of the factory ordered the mill to be stopped, 
saying, *'It is more important that our souls should be saved 
than that this factory should run.** The revival went through 
the mill with astonishing power, and nearly all were converted. 

The members of a certain church where Finney was 
preaching were leaders in dress, fashion and worldliness. 
One Sunday he preached as searchingly on that line as pos- 
sible, and then called on the pastor to pray. The pastor made 
an earnest appeal to the people. Just then a man arose in the 
gallery and said, **Mr. Lansing, I do not believe that such re- 
marks from you can do any good, while you wear a ruffled 
shirt and a gold ring, and while your wife emd the ladies of 
your family sit as they do before the congregation, dressed as 
leaders in the fashions of the day.** The minister cast him- 
self over the pulpit and wept like a child. The congrega- 
tion bowed their heads. Sobs and sighs broke the silence. 
The pastor said that if these things were an offense he would 
not wear them. The church had a confession of their back- 
sliding written, and they stood while it was read, many of them 
in tears. The revival came, of course. 

In Philadelphia his sermon on **The Atonement*' excited 
such public interest that, by request, he preached it seven dif- 
ferent evenings in succession in as many different churches. He 
remained there for nearly two years, holding meetings in dif 
ferent churches. 



Charles G. Finney 169 

Some lumbermen visited the meetings and were converted. 
They carried the Gospel back with them up the river, and ex- 
tended the revival eighty miles along its banks. They reported 
that not less than five thousand people were converted in those 
lumber regions, and not a single minister there. 

"Among those who opposed his meetings was a German 
skeptic. His wife came to the meetings and was thoroughly 
converted. He was a man of athletic frame and great 
fixedness of purpose. When he learned that his wife had be- 
come a Christian he forbade her coming *to the meetings. She 
asked Finney about it. He told her to avoid giving offense as 
much as she innocently could, but in no case to omit her duty 
to God for the sake of complying with his wishes; and as he 
was an infidel, she could not safely follow his advice. She 
went to meeting again, and he threatened to kill her. She 
thought it only a vain threat, and went again. When she re- 
turned he was in a great rage. He locked the door, drew 
out a dagger, and swore he would kill her. She fled upstairs. 
He caught a light to follow her, which a servant blew out. 
In the darkness, she got down by the^back stairs into the cel- 
lar, and out of the cellar window, and passed the night with 
a friend. Thinking his rage would be over in the morning, 
she returned early. She found the house in great disorder; he 
had broken up the furniture in his insane rage. As she en- 
tered the house he pursued her again through the house with a 
drawn dagger. It was daylight, and she could not escape him. 
As she reached the last room, she turned to face him, fell 
upon her knees, and cried to God for help. At this point 
God arrested him. He glared at her for a moment, dropped 
his dagger, and fell upon the floor and cried for mercy him- 
self. He confessed his sins to God and to her, and begged 
both to forgive him. From that moment he was a wonderfully 



170 Men aistd Women of Deep Piety 

changed man, a most earnest Christian, and greatly attached 
to Finney.** 

Finney was sent for to pray with a wicked man. He 
says, "What a look in his face! Accustomed as I was to 
seeing people under great conviction, his appearance gave me 
a tremendous shock. It was indescribable. He was writhing 
in agony, grinding his teeth, and literally gnawing his tongue 
for pain! He cried out, 'Oh, Mr. Finney! I am lost! I 
am a lost soul!* I was greatly shocked, and exclaimed, *If this 
is conviction, whaf is hell?* But I soon led his thoughts to 
the way of salvation, pressed the Savior upon his attention, 
and acceptance, and he found peace.'* 

Some well-to-do brethren leased the Chatham Street The- 
ater, in New York, and fitted it up for services, calling Fin- 
ney to locate there. He accepted, bringing his wife and three 
children. The Spirit was poured out, and a continuous re- 
vival began. They were a working church, well-trained in 
soul-winning. Whenever his church became too large, he 
would send out a colony to establish a new church in some 
new section of the city. In three years there were seven 
churches formed from this revival work. Then the Broadway 
Tabernacle was built, and a Congregational Church organ- 
ized, Finney at that time leaving the Presbyterian church, 
whose doctrines he had always taken exception to. 

Taking a sea voyage for his health, and to get away from 
incessant public life, in 1834-1835 he spent some weeks at 
Malta and Sicily. On the return trip his soul was pressed 
with the fact that his health was not as good as it used to be. 
He knew no one to take up the work of wide evangelism. 
One day he found his soul so burdened that he could take no 
rest. "My soul was in utter agony. I spent the entire day 
in prayer in my state-room, or walking the deck in intense 



Charles G. Finney 171 

agony. I felt crushed with the burden that was on my soul. 
It was the spirit of prayer that was upon me, which I had 
often experienced in kind, but perhaps never before to such a 
degree, for so long a time. I besought the Lord to go on with 
His work, and to provide Himself with such instrumentalities 
as were necessary. After a day of unspeakable wrestling and 
agony of soul, just at midnight the subject cleared up to my 
mind. The Spirit led me to believe that all would come out 
right, that -God had yet a work for me to do; that I might 
be at rest; that the Lord would go forward with His work, 
and give me strength to take any part in it that He desired. 
But I had not the least idea what course His providence would 
take.** 

Landing in New York, he learned that some wretch had 
set the Tabernacle on fire, that the roof had burned off, and 
that the editor of the Evangelist, which was published in the 
interest of the revival work and spread of truth, was declining 
rapidly, its subscription falling off at the rate of fifty or sixty 
a day because of its advanced position against slavery. Fin- 
ney proposed to give a course of lectures on revivals, which the 
editor might report in the paper. It was announced. New 
subscriptions rolled in rapidly, much faster than they had 
fallen off. These lectures he delivered through the winter, 
preaching one each week. The lectures were extemporaneous, 
and lasted about an hour and three-quarters. They were 
afterwards published in book form and translated into French 
and German. They were useful in promoting revivals in the 
United States, Canada, Great Britain, Scotland, Wales and 
Europe. Many persons were led into salvation through them, 
and not a few Into the ministry. 

A continuous revival went on in New York as long as he 
was there. There were conversions at almost every service. 



1 72 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Many young men desiring to enter the ministry came to him 
for instruction. Then he was requested to go to Oberlin, 
Ohio, as teacher of theology. Asa Mahan was at that time 
its worthy president. The brethren in New York offered that, 
if he would go, and give one-half of the year to teaching in 
Oberlin, and the other half in New York with them, they 
would endow the institution, providing for the professorships. 
And so Finney went to Oberlin in 1835. He made it a 
national power. From under his teaching twenty thousand 
students went out to be leaders of religious and public life. 
As there was no room large enough to hold the great crowds 
that gathered from the wilderness to hear him preach, a great 
tent was erected, and from its center-pole floated the streamer, 
"HOLINESS TO THE LORD." 

In the financial crash of 1837, many who supported th^ 
school lost heavily, and the college was left heavily in debt. 
Finney himself felt the pinch in trying to provide for his fam- 
ily. He sold his traveling trunk to replace a cow that had 
died. He spread the needs before the Lord, and then said he 
would praise Him whether deliverance came or not, but help 
came. A letter came containing a check for two hundred 
dollars, and for several years that same friend sent him six 
hundred dollars a year, with which Finney supported his fam- 
ily. *'The most efficient toilers in God's vineyard do not get 
the most of their wages in this world. Surpassing usefulness 
must be paid for, and most people are not willing to pay the 
price. The careful observer will learn that all those who are 
pre-eminently useful pay for it in self-sacrifice, and suffering, 
and agony, and tears." 

Friends in England contributed thirty thousand dollars, 
which paid off the indebtedness. 



Charles G. Finney 173 

In 1 836 there was a powerful revival in Oberlin. Finney 
himself had received what he called an ''overhauling'* in his 
experience, a gracious and thorough reviving and re-anointing 
of the Spirit. President Mahan was sanctified wholly, and 
began to teach it definitely. The subject was discussed by 
the students, and some sought and found the experience. But 
Finney had rejected the Methodist teaching. He seemed to 
locate carnality only in the will, taking.no account of the af- 
fections and depraved appetites warping and weakening the 
will. Hence, while he deplored the lack of power in the 
ministry, and plainly and persistently urged that young minis- 
ters wait on God until definitely endued with power from on 
high, and while the baptism with the Holy Ghost shortly aftef 
his conversion was epochal in his own experience, he never be- 
came a mighty preacher on holiness. While holiness is essen- 
tial to the success of one in the ministry, it is equally essential 
to the establishment and healthy growth of the laity. Had 
Finney proclaimed this glorious truth as boldly and unceasingly 
as he did that of justification, his great ministry of evangelism 
would have taken on power and permanency one hundred fold. 
As it was, occasionally some converts inquired of the way of 
holiness, and through his help were encouraged to press into 
the experience. 

President Mahan, by his faithful ministry of preaching 
and writing, taught clearly the doctrine of entire sanctifica- 
tion, and lived a very fruitful life. Finally, for that very rea- 
son, opposition set in against him, and he was asked to resign 
as president of Oberlin. His successor plainly took a posi- 
tion against the definite seeking of holiness, and from that day 
the institution declined in spirituality. They no longer have 
revivals mighty in the Holy Ghost. Higher criticism has 
crept in, and well might her students answer, as did certain to 



1 74 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Paul, "We had not so much as heard that there be a Holy 
Ghost." 

In the winter of 1842-1843, while Finney was in revival 
services in Boston, which, on account of its great intellectuality 
and many religious "isms", was always a difficult field, he 
gave himself more fully to prayer and personal heart-searching. 
We transcribe a little from his own pen: 

"During the winter 1:he Lord gave my own soul a very 
thorough overhauling and a fresh baptism of His Spirit. My 
mind was greatly drawn out in prayer for a long time. This 
winter in particular my mind was exercised on the question of 
personal holiness, and in respect to the state of the church, and 
its want of power with God. 

"I gave myself to a great deal of prayer. I rose at four 
o'clock in the morning, and immediately went to my study and 
engaged in prayer. I frequently prayed till the gong called 
to breakfast at eight o'clock. At this time I had a great strug- 
gle about giving up my wife to the will of God. She was in 
feeble health, and it was very evident that she could not live 
long. For hours I struggled to give her up unqualifiedly to 
the will of God. I was enabled to fall back in a deeper sense 
than I had ever done before upon the infinitely blessed and 
perfect will of God. I then told the Lord that I had such 
confidence in Him that I felt perfectly willing to give myself, 
my wife and family, all to be disposed of according to His 
wisdom. I then had a deeper view of what was implied in 
consecration to God than ever before. I felt a kind of holy 
boldness in telling Him to do with me just as seemed to Him 
good. So deep and perfect resting in the will of God I had 
never known. This sprung a vein of joy in my mind that kept 
developing more and more, for weeks cind months, and indeed, 
I may say, for years. My mind was too full of joy to feel 



Charles G. Finney 175 

much exercised with anxiety on any subject. My prayer, that 
had been so fervent and protracted during so long a period, 
seemed all to run into 'Thy will be done.' 'Holiness to the 
Lord' seemed to be inscribed on all the exercises of my mind. 
For a long time, when I went to God to commune with Him, 
I would fall on my knees and find it impossible to ask for any- 
thing with any earnestness except that His will might be done. 
My prayers were swallowed up in that; and I often found 
myself smiling, as it were, in the face of God, and saying 
that I did not want anything. At this time it seemed as if my 
soul was wedded to Christ in a sense in which I had never 
had any thought or conception of before. 

"I began to preach to the people of Boston in accordance 
with this new and enlarged experience. My mind was too 
full of the subject to preach anything except a full and pres- 
ent salvation in the Lord Jesus Christ. I spent nearly all the 
remaining part of the winter in instructing the people in regard 
to the fullness there is in Christ. A considerable number 
could understand me, but I found that I preached over the 
heads of a majority of the people. 

**I have felt since then a religious freedom, a religious 
buoyancy and delight in God and in His Word, a steadiness 
of faith, a Christian liberty, and overflowing love that I had 
only experienced occasionally before. My bondage at that 
time seemed entirely broken, and since then I have had the 
freedom of a child with a loving parent. It seems to me I 
can find God within me in such a sense that I can rest upon 
Him, and be quiet, and lay my heart in His hand, and nestle 
down in His perfect will, and have no carefulness or anxiety.*' 

To one familiar with the language and experience, it is 
evident that Finney at that time experienced the death of car- 



1 76 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

nality and perfect cleansing of his heart, emd renewal in the 
Holy Ghost. 

In 1 849 he crossed the waters, and labored in revivals in 
various large cities of England with gracious success. In 
London 1 ,500 were on their knees at once, seeking God. In 
1856 we find him laboring again in Boston; in 1857-1858, 
in various New England cities. At that time a most remark- 
able revival surged all over the northern states. Fifty thou- 
sand were converted in one week. People flocked to Christ 
by thousands. One man, coming east from Omaha, Neb., 
said he" found prayer-meetings going on all the way — hun- 
dreds of miles. The revival was so comprehensive that it was 
impossible to count converts. Slavery seemed to cut off the 
wave from the south. 

In 1866-1867 there was another gracious and mighty re- 
vival in Oberlin. Finney no longer felt able to labor in meet- 
ings abroad, but where he resided the revival fire was kept 
burning. He resigned his pastorate of the First Congregational 
Church, Oberlin, in 1872. He completed his last course of 
lectures in the college in July, 1875. The last month of his 
life he preached twice. "He was then eighty-three years old, 
gentle and tender, rich and radiant in the beauty of goodness. 

"His last day on earth was a quiet Sabbath, which he en- 
joyed in the midst of his family, walking out at sunset to listen 
to the music at the opening of the evening service in the church 
near by. Upon retiring, he was seized with pains which 
seemed to indicate some affection of the heart, and after a few 
hours of suffering, he died, August 16, 1 875. 

"Thus closed in peace a life of storm and battles with the 
powers of darkness. Thus went to his reward the most po- 
tential preacher of righteousnesss and successful soul-winner of 
his century.*' 



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Mary Bosanquet Fletcher 



HER 181 

'i-denial and hum- 
wed up in glory, 
lone but God to 
Iways returned 
MARY BOSANQUET FLETCHL.ed her again 

she bore it 

THE subject of this sketch was born in 1 739, at . 
stone, Essex, England. Her parents were members^ch, 
the Established church, required absolute obedience of their 
children, but apparently knew not saving grace. 

At the early age of five years little Mary was anxious 
about her soul, and inquired of older people what was sin in 
God's sight. Some seem to possess very strong religious pro- 
pensities, even in childhood. Their greatest concern is to know 
the will of God. Their only deep satisfaction is in plunging 
out into the ocean of His grace. The mere forms of religion 
are not enough. They must experience its deep and mighty 
transformations in the soul. Such an one was Mary Bosan- 
quet. When just past seven years, through her own seeking 
faith, she tasted some of the inexpressible joy of sins forgiven. 
She had no spiritual help or counsel. The fierce temptations 
of Satan, and the anger and reproach of her parents, wore 
upon her nerves, so that for some months she was quite undone. 
But, regaining strength, she found increased comfort in the 
Lord. 

She was confirmed and admitted to church. Her spiritual 
light was yet dim, however, and later, looking back, she re- 
gretted many wanderings from the Lord. Her grandfather's 
plain and holy living was a light to her, as was also the friend- 
ship of Mrs. Lefever. She and her sister,. who was older, were 
eagerly reaching after spiritual liberty. Convinced that attend- 

179 



ND Women of Deep Piety 

7me other diversions were wrong, Mary told 

her father, and begged him not to force her 

mly listened, but as his daughter persisted in 

the way of the cross, he gave her to understand 

id needs leave home. The Methodists were then 

.2incy as an organization, but were truly the salt of 

.1. Through them she occasionally received help heav- 

rdrd. 

When about eighteen years old she felt convinced that not 

only by staying away from theaters, the dance, etc., she should 

bear her testimony, but also by laying aside worldly dress and 

ornaments. This meant separation, indeed, for one of her high 

rank, but the will of the Lord to her was supreme. "She 

proved it good for a proud heart to wear the plain and modest 

livery of God's children, and what a fence is to keep one from 

sinking into the spirit of the world." She writes: "The end 

usually proposed by young persons in their dress is such as a 

devout soul would abominate. Also, I saw myself a steward 

who must render account for every talent, and that it was my 

privilege to have the smiles of God upon every penny of money 

I laid out.** 

One day her father wanted her to promise that she would 
never make any effort to convert her brothers. This, of course, 
she could not grant. "Then," said he, "you force me to put 
you out of my house. I do not know that you ever disobliged 
me wilfully in your life, but only in these fancies." 

She was therefore forced to leave home, which, to her, 
was dreadful, for English children far surpass Americans in 
obedience to their parents. Nothing but love for Jesus and a 
fixed decision to be obedient to all the will of the Lord could 
have constrained her to do it. She was of age, and already 
in possession of a small fortune. With her maid, she went to 



Mary Bosanquet Fletcher 181 

a lodging of two rooms, and her life of self-denial and hum- 
ble fare began. Soon the cross was swallowed up in glory. 
She felt like a bird, freed from a cage, with none but God to 
live for. She often visited her parents, but always returned 
to her own lodgings at night, for they never received her again 
as one of the home and family. Uncomplainingly she bore it 
all for Jesus. 

Though she remained a member of the Established church, 
she became associated with the Methodists. The helpfulness 
was mutual. At this time she entered into a far deeper rest 
and calm in her soul, which was likely entire sanctification. 

She says: *' Neither did I find an attachment to any crea- 
ture or thing but such as reflected from the will of God. Such 
a sense of purity dwelt on my soul as I can hardly describe.'* 

She was a woman of fortune, augmented several times by 
bequeaths from relatives. When about twenty-three, she, with 
her saintly friend, Mrs. Sarah Ryan, removed from her lodg- 
ings at Hoxton to one of her estates, a mansion at Layton- 
stone. This she fitted up for a home for orphans and desti- 
tute children, and needy women. Like her Savior, she chose 
the poor, the publicans and sinners. Herself in charge, Mrs. 
Ryan assisting, they managed their household of twenty or 
thirty with success and Divine blessing. The inmates were 
trained in books and useful labor. Many lived to adorn the 
Gospel of Christ. The itinerant Methodist preachers always 
found her home a Bethel, the very atmosphere heavenly. Soon 
converts multiplied, and a company of victorious Christians 
were organized into a church. 

The management of the home was with system and econ- 
omy. Early rising was required. Daily family prayer, and 
weekly times for dealing with each person about her soul, were 
the rule. Mistress and all wore one kind of dress, a dark. 



182 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

washable material. The table was plain. In one entire year 
her expenditure for her own clothes would range from one 
dollar to ten usually, and never exceeded twenty-five, while 
she spent hundreds and thousands for others. She let her own 
convenience give way to supply the necessities of others. She 
kept a complete and exact account of her receipts and expen- 
ditures. A faithful steward, indeed! 

The orphans were about all grown up and ready to fill 
useful places. After much prayer, the way was opened be- 
fore her. She sold the home and lands about it, found suit- 
able homes for all her loved family, and settled upon each one 
a small yearly income from her own means. 

Just a few days before the breaking up of the home and 
separation from those whose guardian and spiritual mother 
she had been for twenty beautiful years. Miss Bosanquet was 
married to the very excellent and holy Mr. John Fletcher, 
vicar of Madely. She was then forty-two years old, he fifty- 
two. Each had long lived with an eye single to the glory of 
God. Each had silently loved and longed for the other for 
nearly twenty-five years. His health had been quite frail, but 
now seemed improved. When in three years and nine months 
death brought separation by taking him to his heavenly home, 
neither had suffered spiritual loss by their brief period of mar- 
ried bliss. This saintly pair kept Heaven in their parsonage 
home, much in doxologies, constant in prayers, faithful and 
imwearied in labors for souls. Pastoral oversight can much 
more successfully be given by two thus united than by one 
alone. Jesus sent out the disciples in twos. The mutual ad- 
vice and encouragement of co-working is an important factor 
in keeping constantly on the firing line. 

After a long service, preaching in much weakness (he was 
for many years a sufferer from weak lungs), administering the 



Mary Bosanquet Fletcher 183 

sacrament with celestial benediction, on Sabbath, Mr. Fletcher 
was brought home to his bed, never to arise. His tender wife 
hung upon each word as he lingered on time's border-land 
seven days. His sense of God's very nature being love was 
so clear and inspiring, he called often to his wife, "Cry out, 
and shout, Polly, God is love**! When speech was beyond 
his ability, he frequently gave the sign they had previously 
agreed upon, two taps of the finger, as his dying testimony. 

Said one of Mr. Fletcher, "There is no occasion of 
stumbling in him. Set down any of the scriptural marks of a 
Christian, or a true minister, and I will engage he will not be 
found deficient.** 

John Wesley was frequently under their roof, and had 
expressed his desire that Mr. Fletcher should be his successor 
as overseer of the Methodist Connection. But Mr. Fletcher*s 
death preceded Wesley *s many years. 

Mr. Wesley had written at their marriage: **I should not 
have been willing that Miss Bosanquet should have been 
joined to any other person than Mr. Fletcher; but I trust she 
may be as useful with him as she was before.** Had she 
known that her widowhood would be thirty long years, the 
prospect might have made her loss unbearable. The ex- 
quisite anguish of heart and desolate loneliness of her child- 
less home can only be realized by those who know the rare 
sweetness of spiritual oneness. But the consolation of her 
Beloved was sufficient, and her wounded heart was healed by 
binding up other sad hearts and ministering to their needs. 

The church at Madely now looked to her as it had to her 
husband for counsel and example, and the last thirty years of 
her life were devoted to their advancement in grace. She 
usually held five meetings each week, and in addition often 
rode horseback, or in a chaise, to mining towns and other ap- 



184 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

pointments to carry the Gospel to than. She always kept 
one servant, sometimes more, co-operating with her in the Mas- 
ter's service. The Madely church was a parish of the Estab- 
lishment. However, its spiritual members were also connected 
with the Methodists. Near the close of her life, one of their 
vicars forced the separation of the latter from the Established 
church. Mrs. Fletcher bewailed this much. However, she 
euid her husband had previously provided for such an emerg- 
ency by the erection of three Methodist chapels, in various 
parts of the parish, at their own expense. These chapels be- 
came a part of the Methodist Connection. 

Her Passage to Heaven 

August 14, 1815, she wrote: "Thirty years this day I 
drank the bitter cup and closed the eyes of my beloved hus- 
band, and now I myself cim in a dying state. Lord, prepare 
me! I feel death very near. My soul doth wait, and long 
to fly to the bosom of my God!" 

Hodson, who preached her funeral sermon, said: **Had 
she been a woman of feeble mind, she could not have retained 
her influence and popularity for so many years in the same 
place, for her congregations were full as large after thirty 
years' labor as when she first opened her commission among 
them. Her appearance was noble, emd commanded respect.'* 

Her discourses are described as luminous and eloquent, 
displaying much good sense, and fraught with the riches of the 
Gospel. 

Wesley says, **Her words were as fire, conveying both 
light and heat to the hearts of all that heard her. Her man- 
ner is smooth, easy and natural, even when the sense is deep 
and strong." 




John Fletcher 



JOHN FLETCHER 



tEAN GUILLAUME DE la FLECHERE was born 
J September 12, 1729, at Nyon, Switzerland, in a fine man- 
sion, amid beautiful scenery. His father was an officer in the 
army; his family was a branch of the earldom of Savoy. 

His life was always most exemplary, and at the early age 
of seven the love of God was shed abroad in his heart. His 
earliest intention in life was to be a minister, and in this course 
his studies were turned. But in young manhood he became 
disgusted with the mercenary motives of candidates for the 
ministry, seeking prestige and largest salaries rather than the 
aid of immortal souls. Also he revolted against the doctrine 
of predestination, to which he would be compelled to subscribe 
in order to be ordained in his native land. He therefore re- 
solved to enter the army. Two or three efforts in this direc- 
tion were so frustrated by Providence that the design was 
never carried out. "God moves in a mysterious way His won- 
ders to perform." 

Twice he was rescued from drowning. Once he was car- 
ried down the Rhine five miles by the swift current, and sub- 
merged twenty minutes under a powder mill, but he arose on 
the other side unharmed. Says Mr. Wesley, **Some will say, 
*Why, this was a miracle!' Undoubtedly it was. It was not 
a natural event, but a work wrought above the power of nature, 
probably by the ministry of angels.*' 

His opinion of the work of the ministry was so exalted, emd 

187 



188 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

his consciousness of personal unfitness so keen, that he felt like 
fleeing from the reponsibility. 

But others entertained a far higher opinion of his char- 
acter and fitness. Mr. Gilpin says: *'As far as nature can 
furnish a man for offices of a sacred kind, perhaps there never 
was a person better qualified to sustain the character of a min- 
ister of Jesus Christ than Mr. Fletcher. His disposition and 
habits, his sentiments and studies, his reverential awe of God, 
his insatiable thirst after truth, and his uncommon abhorrence 
of vice, gave his friends abundant reason to apprehend that he 
was marked at an early age for the service of the church.** 

Disappointed in his plans of entering military service, he 
turned his thoughts to England, and went to London in his 
twety-first year. He had graduated from the university in 
Geneva, was proficient in German and French, and now spent 
eighteen months in a boarding-school, mastering the English lan- 
guage. He then became tutor to the two sons of Mr. Thomas 
Hill, of Tern Hall, Shropshire. Here he remained seven 
years, except the time spent in London when Mr. Hill's duties 
called him there during parliament. 

*'I shall wonder if our tutor does not turn Methodist by 
and by,** said Mrs. Hill one day, when Mr. Fletcher had lin- 
gered long to hear a poor old woman talk of Jesus. *'Method- 
ists, madam — what is that?*' he asked. *'Why, the Method- 
ists are a people that do nothing but pray; they are praying all 
day and all night," she replied. "Are they?" said he. "Then 
by the help of God I will find them if they be above ground.** 
He found them, and, being like-minded with them, was ever 
after intimately associated with them. He became convinced 
that it was his privilege to have a more definite faith for sal- 
vation and a clearer witness of acceptance with God. For 



John Fletcher 189 

this he wrestled earnestly, accusing himself, and humbling him- 
self before the Lord. 

He writes: "I had purposed to receive the Lord's Supper 
the following Sunday. I therefore returned to my room, and 
looked out a sacramental hymn. I learned it by heart, and 
prayed it over many times, sometimes with heaviness enough, 
at others with some devotion. I then went to bed, commending 
myself to God with rather more hope and peace than I had 
felt for sometime. But Satan waked while I slept. I 
dreamed I had committed grievous and abominable sins. I 
awoke amazed and confounded, and rising with a detestation 
of the corruption of my senses and imagination; I fell upon 
my knees, and prayed with more faith and less wandering 
than usual, and afterward went about my business with un- 
common cheerfulness. It was not long before I was tempted 
by my besetting sin, but found myself a new creature. My 
soul was not even ruffled. I took not much notice of it at 
first; but having withstood two or three temptations, and feel- 
ing peace in my soul through the whole of them, I began to 
think it was the Lord's doing. Afterward it was suggested 
to me that it was great presumption for such a sinner to hope 
for so great a mercy. However, I prayed I might not be per- 
mitted to fall into a delusion. But the more I prayed the more 
I saw it was real. For, though sin stirred all the day long, I 
always overcame it in the name of the Lord. 

**I continued calling upon the Lord for an increase of 
faith, for still I felt some fear of being in a delusion. Having 
continued my supplication till near one in the morning, I then 
opened my Bible on these words (Psa. 55:22); *Cast thy 
burden on the Lord and he shall sustain thee. He will not 
suiffer the righteous to be moved.* Filled with joy, I fell 
again upon my knees to beg of God that I might always cast 



190 Mejm and Women of Deep Piety 

my burden upon Him. I took up my Bible again, and opened 
it on these words (Deut. 31): 'I will be with thee; I will 
not fail thee, neither forsake thee; fear not, neither be dis- 
mayed.* My hope was now greatly increased; I thought I 
saw myself conqueror over sin, hell and all manner of afflic- 
tion. 

*'With this comfortable promise I shut up my Bible, being 
now perfectly satisfied. As I shut it, I cast my eye on these 
words: 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will do it.* 
So having asked grace of God to serve Him till death, I went 
cheerfully to take my rest.** 

His doubts were removed, his tears were dried up, and he 
began to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. His conversion 
was not imaginary, but real. From that hour it was not 
known that he ever cast a wistful look behind him. 

He made it his invariable rule to sit up two whole nights 
in a week. These he dedicated to reading, meditation and 
prayer, in order to enter more deeply into communion with 
his Lord. He lived entirely on vegetable food, and for some 
time on bread, with milk and water. His custom was never to 
sleep until he could no longer keep awake. One night he 
dreamed that his curtain, pillow and cap were all on fire, but 
went out without harm.ing him. In the morning he found it to 
be true. His partly-burned hymn-book was kept later as a 
relic of Divine protection. The austerities he practised, no 
doubt, injured his health and hastened his end. 

Five or six times, after deep renunciation and most earn- 
est, persistent seeking, he obtained the experience of holiness. 
Being timid about publicly testifying to so exalted a state of 
grace, he would lose it, then regain it, until he learned the se- 
crets of not only obtaining, but keeping, this blessed grace. 



John Fletcher 191 

"Two documents may here be noticed which will illus- 
trate Mr. Fletcher's devotional life. One is a solemn cove- 
nant dated August 15, 1754. It is drawn up chiefly in 
Latin, and covers the two sides of a parchment about nine 
inches by five in size. It has been thought that the signature 
was written with his own blood. After a confession of his 
utter unworthiness, he consecrates all he is and all he has to 
God, and prays for pardon, grace, guidance, and final deliv- 
erance. The other document is a manual of devotions; a small, 
square book, containing about two hundred closely-written 
pages. It consists of passages from the Greek Testament, se- 
lections from Charles Wesley*s hymns, and Fletcher's own 
meditations, maxims and resolutions. The following is writ- 
ten in French: 

"Pray on my knees as often as possible. 

"Sing frequently penitential hymns. 

"Eat slowly, three times a day only, and never more. 

"Always speak gently. 

"Neglect no outward duty. 

"Beware of a fire that thou kindlest thyself. 

"The fire that God kindles is bright, mild, constant, and 
burns night and day. Think always of death and the cross, 
the hardness of thy heart, and the blood of Christ. 

"Beware of relaxing and of impotence. God is faithful, 
but He owes thee nothing. 

"Speak only when necessary. 

"Do not surrender thyself to any joy. 

"Rise in the morning without yielding to sloth. 

"Be a true son of affliction. 

"Write down every evening whether thou hast kept these 
rule^/* 



192 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

For two years he was in a state of uncertainty regarding 
entering the ministry. A great passion for souls constrained 
him to yearn and labor for the salvation of others. On the 
other hand, his unusual humility and distrust of himself re- 
strained him. Urged by Mr. Hill, in whose employ he had 
been for some years, and advised by John Wesley to do so, 
he was ordained in 1 75 7. The very day he received priest's 
orders he assisted John Wesley in the administration of the 
Lord's Supper. For two years he continued tutoring, and 
preached in various churches as called to do so. 

He writes: "The will of the Lord be done. I am in His 
hands. And if He does not call me to so much public duty, 
I have the more time for study, prayer and praise." His first 
sermon amazed the congregation, as he preached plainly from 
the text, '*Ye adulterers and adultresses, know ye not that the 
friendship of the world is enmity with God?" 

Through Mr, Hill the parish of Dunham in Cheshire was 
offered Mr. Fletcher. The salary would be $2,000 per year, 
the parish small, and the work light. "Alas, sir," said Mr. 
Fletcher, "Dunham will not suit me. There is too much 
money, and too little work." "Few clergymen make such ob- 
jections," replied Mr. Hill. "It's a pity to resign such a liv- 
ing, as I don't know that I can find you another. What shall 
we do? Would you like Madely?" "That, sir, would be 
the very place for me." There was no difficulty in inducing 
the one then vicar of Madely to exchange that benefice for 
one with double its salary. And so Mr. Fletcher was made 
vicar of Madely, with a limited salary and plenty of work. 

The inhabitants of Madely were chiefly miners and iron- 
workers, usually ignorant and profane. Said Fletcher: "If I 
preach the Gospel ten years here, and see no fruit of my labors, 
in either case I promise to bless God, if I can only say from 



I 



John Fletcher 193 

my heart, *I am nothing, I have nothing, I can do nothing.' '* 

Haying power with God in private, he also had power 
with men in public. Attendance at the services increased, so 
that the crowded church could not accommodate all, and many 
had to stand in the church-yard. Many were awakened and 
led into true salvation from sin. "My parish — it begins to be 
as dear to me as my own soul!** he wrote. 

But, as ever, there was opposition to the real truth. The 
rich did not want their dishonesty uncovered. The common 
mob did not want their drunken revelries, bull-baiting and 
cruel sports denounced. They planned to waylay the man of 
God and set the hounds upon him. Providentially Fletcher 
was summoned to bury a child, and thus did not pass the place 
appointed by the conspirators. Jeered and hooted by those 
determined to serve the devil, he was also tenderly loved and 
revered by hundreds who thanked God for a minister who 
loved their souls enough to preach the whole truth. 

A young clergyman pasted on the church door a paper, in 
which he charged Fletcher with rebellion, schism, and disturb- 
ing the public peace. A poor widow, in whose house a meet- 
ing was held, was arrested and fined $ 1 00. The church- 
wardens threatened to bring charges against him for irregular 
meetings, for while Fletcher was a Methodist in doctrine, ex- 
perience and sympathy, he was an ordained minister of the 
Established Church of England, which considered all meetings 
except those held in the church, strictly according to prescribed 
meth ids and liturgy, as offensive and illegal. 

**Both in public and in private, Fletcher labored to be a 
faithful minister of Christ. His public ministrations were fre- 
quent and earnest; and this not only in his own parish, where 
he preached several times in the week, beginning sometimes at 
five in the morning, but also at other places — eight, ten and 



194 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

sixteen miles off, from which he would get home at one or two 
in the morning. No pains were spared that the people should 
be brought within sound of the Gospel. Some gave as an ex- 
cuse for not being at the church service on Sunday morning 
that they did not waken early enough. To meet this excuse, 
he provided himself with a bell, and every Sunday morning, 
for some months, set out at five o'clock visiting the most dis- 
tant parts of the parish, and inviting all to the house of the 
Lord." 

Five o'clock prayer-meetings were held for the benefit of 
the miners on their way to work in the mornings. As people 
heard the bell they remarked, *'There goes the soul-saver!'* 

One Sunday at Madely his mind became so confused that 
he utterly forgot his text and sermon. All he could think of 
was the experience of the three Hebrews in the fiery furnace. 
He felt impressed, as he spoke with peculiar unction, that God 
designed that message for a peculiar purpose. True enough. 
A woman afterward informed him that her husband, who was 
a baker, was so enraged against her for attending the ser- 
vices that he had threatened to heat the oven and throw her 
into it when she would return from the meeting. Feeling it 
to be her duty and privilege to be present in the Lord's house 
on the Sabbath, she went. The whole sermon seemed to be 
for her. Filled with the love of God, she returned, resigned 
to suffer even death for Jesus' sake. Flames were issuing 
from the great oven, and she was expecting to be thrown into 
it. But when she opened the door she was astonished to find 
her husband upon his knees, praying for forgiveness for his 
sins ! 

The walls of Mr. Fletcher's study were stained by his 
breath, a silent witness of the hours of intercession spent alone 
with God. He lived alone over twenty years, employing no 



John Fletcher 195 

servant, devoting himself to his flock and devotion to his Lord. 
His greeting when meeting a friend was, "Do I meet you pray- 
ing?" Sometimes w^hen entering a home to visit, he at once 
dropped on his knees, calling all to prayer. If misconduct of 
an absent person was mentioned, his usual reply was, "Let us 
pray for him.** 

When his heart was especially drawn to the Lord, though 
in company, he would say, like his Lord, "Sit ye here while 
I go and pray yonder.*' His closet was his favorite retire- 
ment, to which he often retreated. In all cases of difficulty 
he would retire to his consecrated place to ask counsel of the 
Most High. And here, in times of uncommon distress, he has 
continued whole nights in prayer before God. 

His preaching was perpetually preceded, accompanied, 
and succeeded by prayer. The spirit of prayer accompanied 
him from the closet to the pulpit, and while he was outwardly 
employed in pressing the truth upon his hearers, he was in- 
wardly engaged in pleading that last great promise of his un- 
changeable Lord, "Lo, I am with you alway.** In everything 
he gave thanks. His heart was always in a grateful frame, 
and it was his chief delight to honor God by offering his praise 
and thanksgiving. Frequently he has broken out in a strain 
of holy rejoicing. He considered every unexpected turn of 
providence as a manifestation of his Father's good pleasure, 
and discerned causes of thanksgiving, either obvious or latent, 
in every occurrence. 

He sought after an entire conformity to the perfect will 
of God. To accelerate his progress toward this desirable 
state, he cheerfully renounced his natural habits, and reso- 
lutely opposed his own will, unweariedly laboring to brmg 
every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. He 
struggled against the most innocent of his infirmities. He en- 



196 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

tered upon the most painful exercises, and refused to allow 
himself, in the least, temporary indulgences which were not 
perfectly consistent with a life of unfeigned mortification and 
self-denial. He engaged himself in every kind of spiritual 
labor, with the most intense application, suffering no talent to 
remain unoccupied, nor any moment to pass by unimproved. 
So perfectly was he inured to habits of Christian industry that 
he never discovered an inclination to sweeten the most laborious 
exercises with those refreshments and relaxations which he es- 
teemed not only allowable, but, in some cases, necessary to his 
weaker brethren. Considering himself a member of Christ's 
militant church, he complained of no hardshps, nor thought 
any difficulty too great to be encountered in the course of his 
warfare, preferring the path of duty to the lap of repose, 
counting neither ease, nor interest, nor reputation, nor even 
life itself, dear to him, that he might finish his course with joy. 
His charities were profuse, most of his salary being used 
to supply necessities for the poor, and a good part of his pri- 
vate income spent in the opening of chapels and spreading the 
Gospel. He loved his neighbor as himself. 

Fletcher is known as one of the greatest of religious con- 
troversialists. Himself a man of peace, he had espoused the 
cause of truth. He believed that "Controversy, though not 
desirable in itself, yet, properly managed, has a hundred times 
rescued truth, groaning under the lash of triumphant error.** 
"He contended not for victory, but for truth and Christ.** 

He wrote a short Defense of Experimental Religion in 
I 761 , in reply to a visitation sermon attacking the doctrines of 
Methodism. 

* Lady Huntington opened her college at Trevecca, in South 
Wales, in 1 768, with Fletcher as its president. The institu- 
tion did a great work in preparing young men for the minis- 



John Fletcher 197 

try, and the piety and devotion of its saintly president marked 
its course as a holiness school. However, after about three 
years, Mr. Fletcher resigned the presidency. Mr. Wesley, 
Fletcher, and many other leading heralds of the Gospel, felt 
it their duty to declaim against a loose antinomianism, spread- 
ing over the kingdom in the wake of the great revival tide. 
Some professed salvation who were living openly wicked lives. 
So persuaded were many that justification was by faith alone 
that they saw not that good works were a proper and necessary 
fruit of salvation, though not its procuring cause. The minutes 
of the Methodist Conference in London, in I 770, pointed out 
the danger, in terms which Mr. Wesley afterward admitted 
were not sufficiently guarded. However, the controversy was 
launched, and the preachers arrayed themselves either with 
Whitefield, Lady Huntington, Berridge, Toplady, and others 
on the side of predestination, etc.; or on the side with Wesley, 
Fletcher and others, teaching Arminianism. Fletcher's Checks 
to Antinomianism are famous examples of Christian charity, 
clear argument, keen thought and Biblical doctrine. Through 
it all, he never contracted any bitterness of spirit, nor lacked 
in brotherly love and kindness. This often brought his oppo- 
nents under conviction, and aided greatly in convincing many 
of the truth. 

Among his political treatises was a Vindication of Mr. 
Wesley's Calm Address to the American Colonies. One of 
his pamphlets was brought to the notice of the king, who or- 
dered that Fletcher should be asked if he desired preferment 
in the church. The characteristic reply of the man of God 
was, *'I want nothing but more grace." 

In 1 765 he exchanged work for a few Sundays with a 
Mr. Sellon, of Breedon. The church became so crowded 
that the parish clerk became angry because of the extra work 



198 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

of cleaning the church. He began charging admission for all 
outside the bounds of the parish. When Mr. Fletcher learned 
of the misconduct, he thus denounced the miscreant clerk: **I 
have not felt my spirit so moved these sixteen years last past 
as I have done today. I have heard that the clerk of this 
parish has demanded, and has actually received, money from 
divers strangers before he would suffer them to enter the church. 
I desire that all who have paid money this way for hearing 
the Gospel will come to me, and I will return what they have 
paid. And as to this iniquitous clerk, his money perish with 
him." 

In 1766 he wrote to a friend: "This evening I have 
buried one of the warmest opposers of my ministry, a stout, 
strong young man, aged twenty- four years. About three 
months ago he came to the church-yard with a corpse, but re- 
fused to come into the church. When the burial was over, I 
went to him and mildly expostulated with him. His constant 
answer was, that he had bound himself never to come to 
church while I was there, adding that he would take the conse- 
quences. Seeing I got nothing, I left him, saying with uncom- 
mon warmth, though, as far as I can remember, without the 
least touch of resentment: *I am clear of your blood. Hence- 
forth it is upon your own head. You will not come to church 
upon your legs, prepare to come upon your neighbor's shoul- 
ders.' He wasted from that time, and to my great surprise 
hath been buried on the spot where we were when the con- 
versation passed between us. When I visited him in his sick- 
ness, he seemed tame as a wolf in a trap. Oh, may God have 
turned him into a sheep in his last hours!" 

At the age of forty-six, he seemed like an old man. His 
hair was gray. His health was poor. **Oh, how life goes! 
I walked, now I gallop into eternity. The bowl of life goes 



^ V John Fletcher - 1 99 

rapidly down the steep hill of time." He traveled on horse- 
back nearly twelve hundred miles with Wesley, in the hope of 
recuperating. He resided a while in the home of Mr. Ireland, 
having his parish supplied. Health not returning, he once 
more visited his native land. When able, he preached in vari- 
ous pulpits until they were closed against him, and he was 
forbidden by the bailiff to hold meetings even in private houses. 
This was mainly because he had preached against Sabbath- 
breaking and stage plays. But the opposition gave way, and 
ere he returned to England he was again proclaiming the truth 
that saves from sin to great multitudes. 

For twenty-five years he had thought much of Miss Bo- 
sanquet, a sketch of whose pious life is given elsewhere in this 
volume. She being a woman of fortune, he had been back- 
ward to ask her hand in marriage. She also had cherished 
warm affection for him, though they had not met for fifteen 
years. Their marriage took place November 12, 1781. He 
resumed his pastorate, saying that he had not married for his 
own sake only, but for the good of his parish. She Was a true 
helpmeet, traveling with him in all kinds of weather, and labor- 
ing as earnestly as he for the spiritual good of all. 

In the summer of 1 785 they were busy visiting those who 
were sick of a fever then prevalent. Mrs. Fletcher took the 
fever, but recovered. In August Mr. Fletcher took a cold, 
which aggravated his lung trouble of long standing. In great 
weakness, and amidst the tears of his sympathetic congrega- 
tion, he preached his last sermon the next Sabbath. After the 
service of four hours* length, in which he administered the 
Lord's Supper, he returned home to die. Lingering one week, 
he left many testimonies of the Lord's gracious presence. His 
prevailing thought seemed to be, "God is love! It fills me 
every moment! God is love! Shout! Shout aloud! Oh, it 



200 Men and Women of Deep Piety* 

so fills me that I want a gust of praise to go to the ends of the 
earth!" His right hand, held up when he could no longer 
speak, gave the sign, as requested, that Jesus was still present 
with him, and the prospect of Heaven opening to him. Sun- 
day night, August 14, 1785, he entered into the joy of his 
Lord, at the age of fifty-six. He was buried in the church- 
yard of Madely, where he had labored with uncommon zeal 
and ability for twenty-five years. 

"Mr. Fletcher was a luminary. A limiinary, did I say? 
He was a sun. I have known all the great men for these fifty 
years, but I have known none like him. I was intimately ac- 
quainted with him, and was under the same roof with him 
once for six weeks, during which I never heard him say a sin- 
gle word which was not proper to be spoken, and which had 
not a tendency to minister grace to the hearers." — Henry 
Venn. 

"I was intimately acquainted with Mr. Fletcher for thirty 
years. I conversed with him morning, noon and night, without 
the least reserve, during a journey of many hundred miles, and 
in all that time I never heard him speak an improper word or 
knew him to do an improper action. To conclude, within 
fourscore years I have known many excellent men, holy in 
heart and life; but one equal to him I have not known— one 
so uniformly devoted to God. Sd unblameable a man in every 
respect I have not found either in Europe or America, nor do 
I expect to find another such on this side eternity." — John 
Wesley. 



^i 







George Fox 



GEORGE FOX 



GEORGE FOX, the founder of Quakerism, wrought a 
greater revolution and transformation, in England, than 
did Cromwell. The two men were friends, and George failed 
not to tell the great Commoner of his sins and of his duty to 
God. Then when invited to dine with him, he sent the mes- 
sage, **Tell him I will neither eat of his meat nor drink of his 
drink.*' He suffered not position or reward to dull the edge 
of his Gospel sword. 

Fox had no intention of founding a sect. He simply hun- 
gered and sought after the Lord for weary years. Indeed, in 
his childhood he was not as other children. Sober, medita- 
tive, solitary, he sat quietly and listened to his elders, ever 
pondering on Divine things, and trying to grasp their meaning. 
He was persuaded that there was more in real salvation than 
the common ranks of professing Christians experienced. He 
wandered from place to place, being convinced that he was 
called to be a pilgrim and stranger in the earth. His kins- 
folk feared he was becoming melancholy. They wished to 
solve his difficulties by recommending marriage, or pleasures, 
or business. 

One man bade him to take tobacco and sing psalms. But 
he replied that he did not like tobacco, and was in no state to 
sing psalms. 

One clerg5rman asked him all kinds of questions, then used 
his replies for next Sunday's sermons. 

203 



204 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Another took him into his garden for quiet conversation. 
The wretched youth was forgetful of all but his soul's misery, 
and heedlessly trod on a flower-bed, at which the doctor be- 
came so irate that any subsequent advice was needless. An- 
other gave him some medicine, and tried to bleed him! Next 
he tried good works, visiting the poor and fatherless. Again 
he wandered forth, in cities and villages, sleeping under 
hedges, or wherever he could find shelter, studying his Bible, 
wearing his famous leather breeches, learning that God dwelt 
not in temples made with hands, but in men's hearts, wherever 
made welcome. He also came to the conclusion that the fit- 
ness needed for the holy work of the ministry was not the 
mere book-learning secured at the universities (which seemed 
to be the only requirement in churches of his day). He was 
persuaded that God valued holiness of heart and life above 
all else. 

His understanding became enlightened, God spake peace 
to his soul, and the veil of darkness and gloom lifted forever 
from his mind. **His soul was filled wdth God's love to him 
personally, and for the hour there were but two in the uni- 
verse, God and himself." That personal mystical union, bet- 
ter felt than told, became blessedly his. 

He traveled about, and wherever he could get a hearing, 
he told his experience, and emphasized the necessity of fol- 
lowing the inward Divine teaching of the Spirit of the Lord. 
He called people to holiness of heart, a strange doctrine in 
those days of formality in the churches. Converts multiplied 
about him, who followed implicitly his instructions. 

The main tenets of the Quakers were : ( 1 ) The import- 
ance of following the inward Divine light. In so doing, some 
did rather erratic things, but in the main they were slow 
enough and sensible enough to prove out the leadings. (2) 



George Fox 205 

The rights of women, equal to those of men, to speak in meet- 
ing, and tell what the Lord did for their souls. Some of the 
most prominent and useful of early Quakers were women. 
(3) The use of "thee'*, **thine'* and **thou'* in conversation. 
Their reason was that such language was at that time used 
only in addressing servants, thus making a distinction in 
classes, so characteristic of the English people. Fox saw that 
the Lord made no such distinctions, and so addresed the high 
and low in the most common terms. With God there is no 
respect of persons. (4) The wearing of the Quaker hat. In 
those days men of the upper classes wore grand plumed hats, 
marvels of art — or rather, they carried them. Dudes carried 
in their hands these fashionable hats of gold lace and plumes, 
or if perchance they did wear them, they lost no opportunity 
to take them off and display them with sweeping bows. To 
all this the lowly Quakers sought to be a rebuke. Conse- 
quently they wore their plain, broad-brimmed hats, and re- 
fused to bow to people of rank. Of course this brought en- 
mity, as many, like Haman, felt hateful so long as "Morde- 
cai'* bowed not or did them reverence. (5) Preaching with- 
out fee or reward. The country was burdened with extor- 
tion; all had to pay tithes for the support of the Established 
Church of England, whether they agreed with its teaching or 
not. Fat salaries were sought more than the souls of men. 
Fleecing the sheep was more important than feeding them. To 
all this the Quakers objected. 

They became very odious to clergymen and laymen. Re- 
ligious liberty was not comprehended. All were supposed to 
attend to religion in the channels provided by law. Cruel 
persecution broke upon the guileless Quakers. They were im* 
prisoned not only for the meetings they held, but for those 
they intended to hold. Lying and injustice were resorted to. 



206 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

and trials were not even granted. Unjust fines were exacted, 
robbing them of their property. Usually from one to two 
thousand Quakers lay in London prisons alone, to say nothing 
of those in almost every other city and hamlet. Usually they 
starved, or paid for their scant food. 

"Is this where George Fox was imprisoned?" asked a 
lady who was visiting Colchester Castle. "There is no record 
of it,*' replied the custodian, "but it is very likely. Fox saw 
the inside of most of the prisons in England.** 

He always bore his imprisonments patiently, but would 
pay no fines, as he had committed no wrong. Sometimes he 
knew beforehand that at such an appointment he would be 
taken prisoner. But he would not make his escape, choosing 
rather to set a good example of suffering patience before his 
constituency. Sometimes he was let out without bail, as the 
officers knew that at the appointed court he would appear. 

Their sufferings were not confined to the old country. 
Many came to America to settle here or to propagate their 
teachings. The Puritans of New England, who sought re- 
lief from oppression on our shores, had not learned the lesson 
of granting to others the religious liberty they desired for 
themselves. Some of the Quakers were publicly put to death, 
many were cruelly banished, others imprisoned and fined, or 
publicly whipped. 

In 1 690 the Toleration Act was passed, and persecu- 
tions ceased. It was granted to secure favor with Catholics; 
nevertheless it brought untold relief to God*s oppressed but 
faithful followers. 

Imprisonment, suffering and privation broke down the iron 
constitution of Fox. He died at the early age of sixty-six. 
His hair had become white and thin, his voice feeble, his step 
halting, as a very aged man. 




Madam Guyon 



MADAM GUYON 



"Lives of ?rent (\vo)mpn all remind us 

We ni:iy mnke our lives sublime, 
And flopMrtinfiT. leave heliinrl n«; 
Footprints iu the sands of time." 

SOME persons are great because they reflect the spirit of 
the age in which they I've. They ride upon the crest of 
public opinion, and become noted because they g've audience 
and expression to the pubic will. In such persons there often 
is a good degree of merit. 

But how much mere honor should be credited to one who, 
in a dark and forbidding age, stems the downward trend, and 
out of prevailing darkness sends forth the gleams of a saintly 
and triumphant life! 

Such an one was Madam Guyon. She was born in 1 648 
into a wealthy and professedly pious French fam'ly. It was 
a period of corrupt rule in France. The black mantle of 
Roman Catholccism smothered all true Divine life in the 
hearts of its devotees. Riot, Sabbath-breaking and in^delity 
held sway. The church walked in hand-clasp with the 
world, while saintliness was derided and pe-secuted. 

In such an age Madam Guyon groped her way to such 
eminence of holiness that even in this day of marvelous light 
she stands among the foremost of saintly characters. 

It was the custom to send even small children to the con- 
vents to be educated. Much of her ch'ldhood was thus spent 
under oversight of instructors, some good, some bad. When 

209 



210 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

at hom€ she was neglected by her mother, who was partial to 
her sons, but cared little for her daughter. 

Remarkably strong religious propensities appear in her 
earliest years. Impetuous and vain, yet her tender conscience 
suffered much disquiet over little faults. At confessional she 
was very frank and truthful in telling her failings. Her child- 
ish devotion prompted her to secretly carry her breakfasts 
into the chapel and present them as an offering to one of the 
many images. Her bright wit charmed many admirers. When 
seven and eight years of age she enjoyed clear Divine favor, 
and lived very carefully, but being so often shifted from one 
convent to another, sometimes cared for, sometimes neglected, 
often imposed upon, her spiritual progress was much hindered. 

She became very beautiful, and this caused her mother to 
deck her fashionably, and early take .her into society. The 
chief wandering of her young heart for a close walk with God 
was the indulgence of vanity. Of this she often repented, and 
almost wished that something would mar her beauty and check 
her pride. 

She wrote the name of Jesus on a piece of paper, and 
with needle and thread fastened it to her breast. She wished 
to become a nun. WTiatever trials she was called to endure 
she bore them gladly as her cross for Jesus' sake. Her love 
for secret prayer was remarkable for one so young. 

When fifteen years of age she was married — not by her 
own plan, but that of her parents — to a wealthy man more 
than twice her age. He had long lived with his penurious 
mother, who did not give the young bride her proper place in 
the home. She treated her as a spoiled child, managed the 
finances herself, and kept the affections of her son from his 
wife. The miserly stinginess here practised was so opposite 



Madam Guyon 211 

to all the young girl had been accustomed to that life now 
wore a somber aspect. 

Her unusual beauty had often been a snare to her, and the 
indulgence of her pride was her besetting sin. The crosses 
and disappointments of her married life were the means of 
turning her more fully to the Lord. She acquired remarkable 
grace to suffer and be still — to not even murmur or assert her 
rights. Even the servants were embittered against her by foul 
means, and openly railed against her. When she went to 
mass, someone was posted to spy upon her. When away from 
home with her husband, he saw more of her graces of char- 
acter, but as soon as home again his mother would occasion 
alienation and cruel misunderstanding. To them were born 
five children. Rearing them under such conditions was indeed 
a difficult task. Two lived to maturity. 

Madam Guyon delved deep into spiritual realities. Her 
insight into character, and her ability to help others into higher 
spiritual life, were indeed remarkable Divine endowments. 
With her bright wit, attractive person, and wealth to give her 
prestige, she might have been a star in society. But renouncing 
all this, she engrossed her soul with love to God, charity to 
the poor, and ministry to the sick. 

She was stricken with small-pox, was prevented from hav- 
ing proper medical care, and the result was that she almost 
died, and finally arose from her bed, her beautiful face now 
badly pitted. This she did not bewail, but rejoiced, believ- 
ing the hand of the Lord thus delivered her from her snare of 
vanity. 

I quote from her diary: "Though I have had my share 
of crosses, I have never found any so difficult to support as 
that of perpetual contrariety without relaxation; of doing all 
one can to please, but without succeeding therein, but even 



212 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

still offending by the very means designed to oblige; and be- 
ing kept with such persons in a most severe confinement from 
morning until night, without ever daring to quit them. Such 
a continual contrariety irritates and stirs up a sourness in the 
heart. It has such a strange effect that it requires the utmost 
efforts of self-restraint not to break out into vexation and rage. 
Thus my condition in marriage was rather that of a slave 
than a free person. I afterward saw clearly, and reflected 
with joy, that this conduct, as unreasonable as it seemed, and 
as mortifying as it was, was quite necessary for me, for had I 
been applauded here, as I was at my father's, I should have 
grown intolerably proud.*' 

Jesus indeed became the Beloved of her soul, the idol of 
her affection. "This union of my will to thine, oh, my God, 
and this ineffable preserxe, was so sweet and powerful that I 
was compelled to yield to its del ghtful power." The rage of 
her husband, meanness of her mother-in-law, insolence of the 
servants, she bore in silence, glorying in the cross. "I so es- 
teemed the cress that my greatest trouble was the want of suf- 
fering as much as my heart thirsted for. I could scarce hear 
God or our Lord Jesus Christ spoken of without being almost 
transported out of myself." Some priests declared they never 
knew any woman whom God held so closely and in so great 
a purity of conscience. 

She writes of the death of her gouty husband: "At last, 
after passing twelve years and four months in the crosses of 
marriage, a great as possible, except poverty, which I never 
knew, God drew me out of that state to give me still greater 
crosses to bear, and of such a nature as I had never met with 
before. My crosses have been increasing, one being removed 
to give place to another, still heavier than the former. I had 
no support, no confessor, no director, no friend, no counsellor." 



Madam Guyon 213 

When attending her irritable husband in his last illness (gan- 
grene), she humbly asked his pardon for anything in which 
she had unwittingly displeased him. "It is / who beg ^our 
pardon. I d'd not deserve you," he replied. 

Madam Guyon now renewed her vow of union with the 
Lord. Her oldest son and two babes were left her to care 
for. The mother-in-law d!d not des re her in the house. So 
she carefully settled all business affairs which fell upon her 
and entered a Benedictine home. 

Her living in Catholic convents and nunneries continued 
to bring crosses. Her money they desired, but not her. 
Priests combined against her. Thsy were jealous of her use- 
fulness, and considered that her aiding sduIs into the love of 
God and circulating some of her writings as an infringement 
of their rights. 

"I made vows of perpetual chastity, poverty and obedi- 
ence, covenanting to obey whatever I should believe to be the 
will of God; also to obey the church, and to honor Jesus 
Christ in such a manner as He pleased. At ths time I found 
I had perfect chastity of love to the Lord, it being without any 
reserve, division or view of interest." 

**The world, seeing I quitted it, persecuted and turned me 
into ridicule. I was its entertainment and the subject of its 
fables. It could not bear that a woman should thus make 
war against it, and overcome. My mother-in-law took part 
with the world, and blamed me for not doing many things 
that, in her heart, she would have been highly offended had I 
done them. I was as one lost, and all alone; so little com- 
munion had I with the creature farther than necessity required. 
I seemed to experience literally those words of St. Paul, *I 
live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me*, for He was become 
the soul of my soul, and the life of my life. His operations 



2H Men and Women of Deep Piety 

were so powerful, so sweet, and so secret all together, that I 
could not express them. Oh, what unutterable communica- 
tions did I experience in retirement! I was insatiable for 
prayer. ' I arose at four o'clock in the morning for prayer. 
The Well-Beloved was Himself the only object which at- 
tracted my heart. I could not contemplate His attributes. I 
knew nothing else but to love and to suffer. 

"This respect and esteem for the cross continually in- 
creased. Indeed, it has ever been my faithful compeinion. 
Oh, blessed cross, thou hast never quitted me since I sur- 
rendered myself to my Divine, crucified Master. So eager 
was I for the cross that I endeavored to make myself feel the 
utmost rigor of every mortification, and felt them to the quick. 
Yet this only served to awaken my desire of suffering, and to 
show me that it is God alone that can prepare and send 
crosses suitable to a soul that thirsts for a following of his suf- 
ferings and a conformity to his death. The more my state of 
prayer augmented, my desire of suffering grew stronger, as the 
full weight of heavy crosses from every side came thundering 
upon me." 

*'When I see in the creatures a conduct which appears un- 
reasonable and mortifying, / mount higher, and look upon 
them as instruments both of the mercy and justice of God, for 
His justice is full of mercy.'* 

"Thou did'st redouble my interior graces in proportion as 
thou did'st augment my exterior crosses." 

"They persecuted me more violently, wrote to Paris 
against me, stopped all my letters, and sent libels against me 
around the country." 

Her faith for healing in particular cases was clear, strong 
and effectual. Wherever she dwelt, a spiritual element gath- 
ered about her for help and instruction. She wrote several 



Madam Guyon 215 

tracts and books on the interior life, also a commentary on the 
Canticles. The latter is a very blessed production. She 
claimed to have direct inspiration, God giving her the thoughts 
as she wrote. Her arm swelled from long activity in writing. 
'* Before I wrote I knew not what I was going to write. And 
after I had written, I remembered nothing of what I had 
penned. I wrote the comments on the Canticles in a day and 
a half, and recejved several visits besides." 

With her daughter and maid she moved to a small house 
for a time when in poor health. Here many came to her for 
instruction. Here also came enemies, almost tearing down the 
house and making it very unpleasant. "Our Lord made me 
comprehend that to give one's self to the help of souls was to 
expose one's self to the most cruel persecutions. To resign 
ourselves to serve our neighbor is to sacrifice ourselves to a gib- 
bet. Such as now proclaim, 'Blessed is he who cometh in the 

name of the Lord' will soon cry out, *Away with him, crucify 

h» (t 
im. 

Persecutions multiplied rapidly. The Bishop of Geneva 
pursued her everywhere with libels, and insulting lies about 
her character, stirring up the people against her. He was 
greatly aided in his vile work by Madam Guyon's own 
brother, a priest called Father La Mothe. Through lying 
pretexts she and Father La Combe were induced to come to 
Paris. Here, under false accusations against his character, 
he was thrown into prison for life. Forged letters were used 
to secure her imprisonment in the Bastile prison. "There was 
not any kind of infamy, error or sacrilege of which they did 
not accuse me. I had an inexpressible satisfaction and joy in 
suffering and being a prisoner. The confinement of my body 
made me better relish the freedom of my mind." 



216 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

She was promised freedom if she would grant her daugh- 
ter in marriage to a profligate man. Of course, she would 
not sacrifxe her daughter to secure her own freedom. 

Temporary liberty was granted her after eight months of 
imprisonment. She was told to flee. But this would appear 
as if she were guilty. She preferred to leave the entire mat- 
ter as God would permit. 

She was hunted down, and again arrested on December 
27, 1695. She spent ten years in prison and seven in banish- 
ment. All this because she would not deny Jesus Christ or 
the Holy Ghost, or cease to lead others into the kingdom of 
God. 

While I was prisoner at Vincennes I passed my time in 
great peace, content to pass the rest of my life there if such 
were the will of God. I sang songs of joy; the stones of my 
prison locked in my eyes like rubies. I esteemed them more 
than all the gaudy brilliancies of a vain world." 

*'I have borne long and sore languishings, and oppres- 
sive and painful maladies without relief. I have been also in- 
wardly under great desolations for several months, in such sort 
that I could only say thes2 words, 'My God, my God, why 
hast Thou forseiken me?* All creatures seemed to be against 
me.** In her prison she wrote: 

"A little bird am I, * 
Shut in from fields of nir, 
But in my cage I sit and sing 
To Him who placed nie there; 
"W'ell pleased a prisoner to be, 
Because, my Lord, it pleaseth Thee." 

"While place we seek or place we shun, 
The soul finds happiness in none; 
But with my God to guide my way 
'Tis equal joy to go or stay." 

She died June 9, 1717, in the seventieth year of her age. 



I 




Frances Ridley Havergal 



FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL 



Childhood and Parentage 

THE subject of this sketch was the mild-spirited, talented 
daughter of Jane and the Rev. William Henry Haver- 
gal, born December 14, 1836. Her father was the able 
Rector of Astley Church, Worcestershire, England, a man of 
learning, true piety, consistent life, and e^ectual labors among 
his parishioners. His unusual love for music and talent in 
musical composition was transmitted to Frances, the youngest 
of six children. 

*'Beside the rich chords and tuneful song in our home, 
there were wise and holy influences. Our parents* prayers 
and example in searching the Scriptures, and their loving, 
cheery ways, activity and punctuality, were the key-notes of 
our child-life.** 

Her dear mamma's words to her on the eve before her 
death, "Fanny, dear, pray to God to prepare you for all that 
He is preparing for you,** became to the child, then only 
eleven years old, a life prayer. 

Education 

Being precocious, vivacious, and possessing a keen appe- 
tite for learning, though not attending school a very long 
period, yet by her constant studying and wide range of read- 
ing, she acquired a scholarship far beyond what is commonly 

219 



220 Men asd \X'om£N of Die? Pilti 

accert^f S; h f:~:5hr- e-"-:ci^":z. She becane r'-rrte ::rrfc:eTit 

b:ev.-. Li::- a- V;'c:i-, '.zz ::.t :.:e;i:_:r :f --e -::-$. 
He: frerue-t travels in Swrtzer!3j:.£ ir.~ Gt:~i-y. izz -pedal 
st"'j£:c* pursue z 'ru.e :r.e:e, eir.ir.cez h?: u:te..e;rui.l acccm- 

Religious Experience 

A piss;:-i:e ;■ ri:T?TT>g for G:d's :avr: eaily pi iii wr^ a wl 
he:, and the suprezie ::: ' uig :: re: r.ei:: ::: many years was 
to :::i:r. a coosdoos witness thit -as accepted tfarough 

Offfst, be: Re£eer.er. 

As a cii id, vthen ^le v t aituicj to adi advice and hdp 
f:c:r. he :u:ate, slie was pot oS by such a vague and nnsatis- 
factc:> rer.y diat ^le dnA 19 in her bosom bsr soul's intense 
longzLg =-:: told it only to God in sscreL Said die, "At any 
time I ru.d wiOins^ have lost or sntfered anything m^gjit it 
have z::u^r.: — e to the attainment of full assurance.** 

V. r.en in her fourteenth year die attended a sdect schoc4 

fc: xi:!;. A :e\TYal in the schocd was the ineins of salvatioD 
to many of the girls, among them Elizabeth Clay, vibo be- 
ci-e : re intimate and life4(»g friend of Frances. Tim'dFf 

Farce: '■""rirtd upon the p::rr.:?es. and intennkleiit li^hl 

^ .tirr.zz '_r r r. re: s-?". , 

G:z; z:z ~:: .ei' e he* !rr.g :~ "".r. s st3.'.e cf mind. He 
H-:e:f hic ■:.:— :.t: .ri: :zr-e v.-ere rer::- zeyr^d of 

the L"tei!e ce:i:e tc go forward ar.u r risers :re- and now, 
in H.s :• T. g:::e ar.z love. He trrk he: zy :r.t r.zs.z itA led 
-r' '.-:: :-e rrri/.- :-d. 

' Th.e :_:.e5s :?.. re? ..e:e -:'• forever past, and hence- 
forth he: p^e^ce azc ]cy izwtd OL'..uds, deepening and widen- 



Frances Ridley Havergal 221 

ing under the teaching of God and the Holy Ghost. The 
blessing she had received Lfted her whole life into sunshine, 
of wh.ch all she had previously experienced was but as pale 
and passing April gleams compared with the fulness of sum- 
mer glory. 

**It was that one word, *cleanseih\ which opened the door 
of a very glory of hope and joy to me. Not a coming to be 
cleansed in the fountain only, but a remaining in the fountain, 
so that it may and can go on cleansing. The utterly unex- 
pected and altogether unimagined sense of its fulfillment to 
me, on simply believing it in its fulness, was just indescrib- 
able. I expected nothing like it short of Heaven.** 

Poetical Gift 

Miss Havergal is well-known among all English-speaking 
people by her beautiful poems and spiritual songs. 

She writes: *'I have not had a single poem come to me 
for some time, till last n'ght, when one shot into my mind. 
All my best have come in that way, Minerva fashon, full 
grown. It is so curious; one minute I have not an idea of 
writing anything, the next I have a pcem; it is mine; I have 
it all, except laying out rhymes and metre, which is then easy 
work!** 

* 'Perhaps you wll be inteiested to know the orig'n of the 
consecration hymn, 'Take My Life.* I went for a little visit 
of five days. There were ten persons in the house, some un- 
converted and long prayed for, some converted, but not rejoic- 
ing Christians. He gave me the prayer, 'Lord, give me all in 
this house.* And He just did! Before I left the house 
every one had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I 
was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the nght in praise 
and renewal of my own consecration, and these litde couplets 



222 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

formed themselves and chimed in my heart, one after another, 
till they finished with, 'Ever, on/i?, all for Thee!' " 

"Her ^vell-kno^\^l hymn, 'I Gave My Life for Thee,* was 
wTitten in Germany, 1858. She had come weary, and sat 
do'ATi opposite a picture with this motto. At once the lines 
flashed upon her, and she \vTote them in pencil on a scrap of 
paper. Reading them over, they did not satisfy her. She 
tossed them into the fire, but they fell out untouched! Show- 
ing them some months later to her father, he encouraged her to 
preserve them, and wrote the tune 'Baca' specially for them." 

The proceeds from her poems and hymns were generously 
devoted to sending the Gospel to the poor at home, or the 
heathen abroad. 

*'The Lord has shoAvn me another little step, and of course 
I have taken it with extreme delight. 'Take my silver and my 
gold' now means shipping off all m.y ornaments (including the 
jewel cabinet, which is really fit for a countess) to the Church 
Missionary House, where they will be accepted and disposed 
of for me. I had no idea I had such a jeweler's shop, nearly 
fifty articles being packed off. I don't think I need tell you 
I never packed a box '>\ith such pleasure." Is not the ex- 
travagance and needless expense of wearing jewelry one of the 
reasons why Scripture forbids the ^^'earing of gold as an orna- 
ment? (Isa. 3; I Peter 3:3; I Timothy 2:9.) More- 
over, it fosters the native pride of the heart, and is antag- 
onistic to a humble and contrite spirit. 

Redeeming Her Time 

How she redeemed her time these few lines will prove: 
"I know by my own teaching days how very much might be 
learned in all the odds and ends of time; how, for instance, I 
learned all the Italian verbs while my nieces were washing 



Francis Ridley Havergal 225 

their hands for dinner after our walk, because I could be ready 
in five minutes less time than they could.'* The faithful old 
nurse well remembers vexing over Miss Frances' hard stuSy- 
ing, and that she found her at those Latin books long before 
breakfast. 

*'I see by my little register that I have received above 600 
letters between January and July 1. It would be impossible, 
unless you were with me day by day, to give you a notion of 
the unaccountable variety of things that people will persist in 
writing to me about." 

"Your letter would take two hours to answer, and I have 
not ten minutes; fifteen to twenty letters to write every morn- 
ing, proofs to correct, editors waiting for articles, poems and 
music I cannot touch, four Bible readings or classes weekly, 
many anxious ones wa ting for help, a mission week coming, 
and other work after that. And my doctor says my physique 
is too weak to balance the nerves and brain, and that I ought 
not to touch a pen." 

**May I sketch her at her study table, in her favorite 
chair from Astley Rectory, older than herself? Her Amer- 
ican typewriter was close by, so that she could turn to it from 
her desk. Her desk and table drawers were all methodically 
arranged for letters from editors, friends, relatives, strangers, 
matters of business, multitudinous requests, Irish Society work, 
manuscripts, paper and string in their allotted places, no litter 
ever allowed. It was at her study table that she read her 
Bible by seven o'clock in the summer and eight o'clock in the 
winter; her Hebrew Bible, Greek Testament, and lexigons 
being at hand. Sometimes, on bitterly cold mornings, I begged 
that she would read with her feet comfortably to the fire, and 
received the reply: *But then, Marie, I can't rule my lines 



224 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

neatly; just see what a find I've got! If one only searches, 
there are such extraordinary things in the Bible.* *' 

She returned, wet and chilly, from a temperance meeting 
held in the open air. Fever and chills rapidly came on, and 
all the suffering of peritonitis. Her perfect peace and rest in 
God is revealed by her calm spirit and helpful words: 

"Ever since I trusted Jesus altogether, I have been so 
happy. I cannot tell how lovely, how precious He is to me.** 

Dr. — "You are seriously ill, and the inflanamation is in- 
creasing.'* 

Frances — "I thought so, but if I am going, it is too good 
to be true.** 

Dr. — "Good-bye; I shall not see you again.** 

F. — "Then do you really think I am going?" 

Dr.— "Yes.** 

F. — "Today?** 

Dr. — "Probably.'* 

F. — "Beautiful; too good to be true. Splendid to be so 
near the gates of Heayen!" 

A terrible rush of convulsive sickness came on. "It 
ceased; the nurse gently assisting her, she nestled down in the 
pillows, folded her hands on her breast, saying, "There; now 
it is all over! Blessed rest!' And now she looked up stead- 
fastly, as if she saw the Lord, and surely, nothing less heav« 
enly could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her 
face. For ten minutes we watched that almost visible meet- 
ing with her King, and her countenance was so glad, as if she 
were already talking to Him. Then she tried to sing, but her 
voice failed; £aid as her brother commended her soul into her 
Redeemer's hand, she passed away.** 




Lady Huntingdon 



LADY HUNTINGDON 



SELINA SHIRLEY, second daughter of the Earl Fer- 
rars, was born in Chartley, England, August 24, 1 707. 
Many people seem to be of a trifling disposition, so that it 
seems difficult to ever bring their attention to heavenly things. 
Not so in this case. She only waited for Divine illumination, 
and when that was given she heartily embraced the offers of 
mercy. All her lifetime surrounded by the gayeties and 
splendors of the nobility of England, yet she felt satisfied 
only when in possession of the true riches, which moth and 
rust do not corrupt. 

At the age of twenty-one she was married to Theophilus, 
Earl of Huntingdon. To them were born six children. She 
shone for a time among the most fashionable elites of England. 
Like Cornelius, she prayed, fasted, gave alms, and tried to 
have a clear conscience. And these things came up as a 
memorial before God. Lady Margaret Hastings, sister of 
Lord Huntingdon, upon hearing the preaching of the man of 
God, Ingham, found blessed deliverance from legal bondage, 
and her new and joyous experience was the means of bringing 
light to Lady Huntingdon. While upon a sick bed the latter 
yielded, prayed and prevailed. Thereafter her life was a 
light upon a candlestick, an unbroken record of long activity 
in her Master's service. Faithful as a wife and mother, she 
found also other fields of usefulness. See her visiting a poor, 
sick woman, expounding to her the way of life. Others, over- 

227 



228 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

hearing her gracious words, gather in, and daily she ministers 
to their spiritual needs, some finding blessed salvation. 

This was at the time when Wesley and his associates 
were scattering the holy flame over the kingdom. Lady Hunt- 
iLgdon invited the Wesleys to her home, and became their 
warm friend. Her influence was wide among fashionable 
circles, and these friends she invited to hear with her the 
"joyful sound", and know the joys of sins forgiven. Many 
of them were saved, and aided in the great work of evangelism. 

The Episcopalian Church was the established church of 
England. Ministers were assigned to their parishes or livings, 
were paid by the Crown, were the only instructors in Bible 
truth, were forbidden to preach in any other parish but their 
own, every service to be conducted in a church consecrated 
after their form, and only the prescribed liturgy and cere- 
monies to be used. Under the Toleration Acts, dissenters 
were allowed to vary from these requirements, but were uni- 
versally despised and set aside. 

The new evangels of truth — Whitefield, Ingham, the 
Wesleys, Berridge, Romaine, Venn, Fletcher, Harris, Hill, 
and others — were not content with state religion, and found 
that the new life within could not be confined to the narrow, 
stinted channels of the past. Flaming with ardor, they visited 
the prisons, gained access to pulpits wherever they could, and 
when ejected from these by the frightened clergy, who 
shared the sheep but fed them not, they found a pulpit on 
some old box in a barn, or a temporary stand in a field, grave- 
yard or hillside. Many thousands listened to the Gospel 
message, believed, and were saved. 

In 1 744 two beautiful sons of Lady Huntingdon died cf 
small-pox. Two years later her husband also went into the 
eternal world. He had ever been kind to his wife's Christian 



Lady Huntingdon 229 

friends, and listened to the Gospel preached many times in his 
own home, but he never professed saving faith in Jesus Christ. 
These afflictions caused the Countess to lean more heavily 
upon her Lord and live more entirely for heavenly things. 
Her four remaining children were a comfort to her, with some 
exception. Her eldest son came under the influence of Lord 
Chesterfield and Bolingbroke, and became quite worldly and 
skeptical, though always respectful to his mother. Her young- 
est daughter, Selina, became a very happy, devout Christian, 
was an inspiration to others, and a close companion to her 
mother. Her death, at the age of twenty-six, was a most 
severe affliction to her mother. Truly **the refining pot is for 
silver", and they who desire most to be made a blessing to 
others must submit to being frequently thrust into the furnace 
of affliction. Like Job, they come out as gold. 

She cut off many luxuries of her rank and day, that she 
might have more means for her Master's service. She used 
her income of about six thousand dollars yearly in building 
chapels to accommodate the growing congregations. She sold 
her jewels for $3,393.87, and with it built a neat house of 
worship at Brighton. She gave up her aristocratic equipage, 
her expensive residences and liveried servants, that her means 
of usefulness might be increased. She gave away for relig- 
ious purposes more than $500,000. She lived humbly, al- 
lowing herself only one new dress per year. She mapped all 
England into six districts, and sent out her mqst successful 
preachers into every community, large or small, not already 
occupied. Her influence extended over England, Wales and 
Ireland. Hundreds of the wealthy sent her gifts ranging 
from $400 to $4,000 to use in her benevolent enterprises. 
Sometimes she would yearn to establish preaching in some op- 
portune place, but the means to pay a preacher, even mea- 



230 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

gerly, or to build a church, was lacking. Friends of weakei- 
faith would remonstrate, but, undaunted, she knew her Father 
was unlimited, and in answer to prayer money was provided. 
An assistant remonstrated with her one day for taking mea- 
sures to build another chapel in London, without the means 
to pay for it. Before he left the house several letters came. 
Reading one, her face radiated with joy and her eyes filled 
with tears. *'An individual who has heard of Lady Hunting- 
ton's exertions to spread the Gospel requests her acceptance 
of the enclosed draft." It was for 500 pounds, or $2,430. 
"Here, take it, pay for the chapel, and be no longer faith- 
less, but believing," she said. 

The preaching appointments which she opened up in her 
homes, in chapels erected for the purpose, in old tabernacles 
or factories, in time formed quite a network over her native 
land. They numbered sixty-seven at her death. What a re- 
buke to idle hands and slackened zeal! The ministers for 
these places she herself appointed, and took an active inter- 
est in the work. Several were supported from her own purse. 
Her letters show a careful attention to minute details, an in- 
sight in spiritual matters, and a genius for managing akin to 
Wesley's executive ability. 

Last Days of Lady Huntingdon. 

The established clergy entered such frequent protests 
against these evangelical messengers that legal difficulties arose, 
and the tabernacle in London was ordered closed. Nothing 
remained for Lady Huntington to do but to withdraw her 
churches from the establishment and let them, with dissenting 
churches, take refuge under the Toleration Acts. Her 
churches then became a distinct denomination. 



Lady Huntingdon 231 

Differing with Mr. Wesley and his connection as to the 
doctrine of predestination and election. Lady Huntingdon acted 
rashly in publicly opposing certain minutes of the conference 
held in 1 770. She humbly regretted this. But some were 
unwilling to give up the gauntlet, and a controversy — long, 
sometimes bitter, and likely not always profitable — ensued. 
However, it belongs to the past. 

Lady Huntington's eighty-fourth birthday found her in- 
firm, no longer so active and alert, but fast ripening for 
Heaven. She carefully arranged all her business, leaving her 
chapels, houses and furniture, estates and efFects, to four trus- 
tees, who at their death were to appoint successors. The col- 
lege was removed from Trevecca to Cheshunt and committed 
to seven trustees. 

One morning as she came from her room, like Moses, her 
face shone with radiance. She said, "The Lord hath been 
present with my spirit this morning in a remarkable manner. 
What He means to convey to. my mind I know not; it may be 
my approaching departure. My soul is filled with glory. I 
am as in the element of Heaven itself." 

A few days later she ruptured a blood vessel, and never 
recovered. Once, when asked how she felt, her triumphant 
answer was, "I am well. All is well — well forever. I see 
wherever I turn my eyes, whether I live or die, nothing but 
victory." After eight months of sickness, she went home to 
Heaven, whispering a few hours previous, *'I shall go to my 
Father tonight." 

Thus departed from this life the founder of Canvinlstic 
Methodism. What a holy example of faithful stewardship. 
Well may every Christian of wealth learn from her the privi- 
lege of using their means without stint for the spreading of the 
Gospel. "If riches increase, set not your heart upon them." 



JOHN HUSS 



JOHN HUSS was a Bohemian priest of the Roman Catho- 
lic church, known as Bethlehem Chapel, at Prague. He 
was born of humble parentage in Husinetz, near Prachatitz, 
Bohemia, July 6, 1 369. He became a priest in 1 400. He 
adopted the views of WyclifFe, whose works he translated and 
whose doctrines he preached, giving great offense to the Arch- 
bishop of Prague. 

He was severely conscientious, gentle, charitable, always 
loyal to truth. People thronged to hear him, hungering for 
the true word of life. As long as he decried only the sins of 
the laity he was popular. But when he attacked the riches, 
extravagance, corruptions, licentiousness and temporal power 
of the priests, he fell at once into odium with the philosophers 
of Paris and the church authorities. His doom was sealed 
when he exposed the depravity of the priests and their accumu- 
lation of wealth. His views concerning the intercession of 
saints, indulgences, confession to a priest, etc., were far in 
advance of his day, yet not so radical as Luther later taught. 
But Romanism could not exist without absolute loyalty to her 
traditions in these things. 

The reformer's books were burned, and he was urged to 
confess that he was in error. In July, 1415, he was brought 
before an assembly held in a Franciscan monastery and pub- 
licly urged to abjure his teaching. He read his reply, \vrit- 
ten by his own hand, saying: * 'Through fear of sinning 

232 



John Huss 233 

against truth, and speaking against the views of holy men, I 
am unwilling to abjure. Yet I am willing to recall anything 
false or erroneous." Such was the language of a Christian 
gentleman, not a bigoted fanatic. 

He was imprisoned four months at Constance, then was 
removed to the tower at Gottleben, where he was kept in 
chains. While in chains and severe suffering, he drew up his 
reply. His letters were intercepted and distorted. His former 
friends became his enemies. His loyal friends were not al- 
lowed to visit him. He suffered from headache, colic and 
hemorrhages. Books were denied him. He was returned to 
Constance. On July 6, 1415, he appeared for the last time 
before the Council of Constance, then in its fifteenth general 
session. The Emperor Sigismund sat on the throne, sur- 
rounded by princes and an immense crowd. Huss was not 
admitted until mass and the litanies were over, lest those holy 
ceremonies should be profaned by the presence of an heretic. 
Huss was placed upon a platform, while the Bishop of Lodi 
preached from Romans 6: 6, "That the body of sin might 
be destroyed", using that Scripture to whet the appetite of his 
hearers for the blood of the man of God. Then absolute 
silence was decreed on penalty of excommunication, while 
thirty articles against Huss were read. These false charges 
were supported by statements of unnamed absent parties. Thus 
Huss could not face his accusers nor plead his cause. He 
tried to answer some of the false accusations, but was roughly 
silenced. He kneeled down and commended his cause to God. 
He was accused of claiming to be the fourth person of the 
Holy Trinity. In vain Huss denied the charge. He was ac- 
cused of treating his excommunication with contempt, and con- 
tinuing in his priestly office. In a brief speech, Huss looked 
squarely at the emperor as he spoke of his safe-conduct being 



234 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

dishonored. A deep blush colored the face of Sigismund. 
Many years later, when the Emperor Charles V was urged 
to violate his safe-conduct and kill Luther, he refrained, saying 
he did not want to blush as did Sigismund. 

Accused of obstinacy, Huss said: "This I utterly deny. 
I have ever desired to be better instructed from Scripture; and 
I solemnly declare that such is my zeal for the truth that if, 
by a single word, I might confound the errors of all heretics, 
there is no danger I would not face in order to do it." He 
then fell on his knees and asked God to forgive his enemies. 
The Council scorned and sneered as the priests formerly had 
treated Jesus. They now mocked Huss by clothing him in 
white priestly garments and putting a chalice in his hand. 
Making him come down from the platform, they dashed the 
chalice from his hand, calling him an accursed Judas. Said 
Huss, "I have all hope and confidence fixed in my God and 
Savior that He will never take from me the cup of salvation, 
and I abide firm in my belief that, aided by His grace, I shall 
this day drink thereof in His kingdom." Each insignia of 
office was removed by an insulting curse. H s hair was cut 
in four directions, leaving his head bare in the shape of a 
cross. A paper crown, decorated by pictures of fiends, was 
placed upon his head as they said, "He devote thy soul to the 
devils of hell." Huss said, "I commend it to my most mer- 
ciful Savior, Jesus Christ." He was then given over to the 
secular arm, as the priests gave Jesus to Pilate. The com- 
mand was given to burn him, his clothes, knife, purse, and 
everything, leaving not a relic for his friends. 

Escorted by two officers, with two police preceding and 
two following, he was led out to the place of execution. 
Princes, eight hundred armed men, and an immense and curi- 
ous multitude formed the procession. The procession took 



John Huss 235 

an indirect route to see the burning of the prisoner's books at 
the episcopal palace. Huss smiled at this ridiculous display 
of malice. When crossing a bridge, he improved the oppor- 
tunity to exhort detachments of spectators. When delayed, 
he knelt down and prayed. He thanked his jail-keepers for 
their kindness. He was stripped of hs garments, and tied to 
the stake by six or seven wet cords, drawn about his ankles, 
limbs, and body up to the arm-pits. His hands were tied be- 
hind him, and a sooty chain was fastened about his neck. 
Two piles of fagots were placed about him, and straw was 
piled to his neck. One more effort was made to induce him 
to recant. He refused, stating his reasons, and concluded 
thus: *' Wherefore I will this day gladly seal the truth which 
I have taught, written and proclaimed, by the pledge of my 
death." He was compelled to turn his face from the east to 
the west, as no heretic must be permitted to die with his face 
toward Jerusalem. The torch was applied. As the flames 
mounted upward, he cried, *'Oh, Christ, thou Son of the liv- 
ing God, have mercy on me." His skull and bones were 
pushed back into the fire. All the ashes were shoveled up and 
emptied into the Rhine, that not a cherished relic of the martyt 
might be treasured. They wished his influence to be anni- 
hilated and his memory to rot. But the memory of the just 
man is revered, while his persecutors are held in everlasting 
shame and contempt. The flames of the martyrdom of Huss 
lit the flame of faith in many hearts, and served to emphasize 
and advertise the great truths he preached. He passed to his 
reward in his forty-second year, in the very prime of life. 

"Faith of onr fathers, living still 

In spite of dungeon, fire and sword, 

O how our hearts beat high with hope. 
Whene'er we hear that glorious word ! 

Faith of our fathers, holy faith. 

We will he true to thee till death !" 



JOHN INSKIP 



i <' I HERE have been marked periods of revival in the 

i- Church, alternated unhappily by periods of spiritual 
declension. When darkness has covered the earth, and gross 
darkness the people, God has ever had his agents ready for the 
work of calling the people back to the life from which they 
had fallen.'* 

Such a marked man was this son of the prophets, John 
Inskip, fitted by natural gifts and Divine enduements to take 
his place as a prominent leader of men. 

He was born in the little historic town of Huntinden, 
England, August 10, 1816. His parents crossed the Atlan- 
tic and settled in Wilmington, Delaware, in 1 820, leaving 
their little son in England. The following year he was 
brought to his parents by a friend. Fourteen children com- 
posed the large family. The most indelible memory left upon 
his youthful mind by attendance at the district school was the 
cruel and unreasonable modes of torture employed by the en- 
raged schoolmasters in the way of birch exercises and split- 
ting rulers. 

His parents were not Christians. Indeed, his father was 
quite skeptical, and his business of buying and selling cattle 
brought him into association with rough men, and confirmed 
him in his infidelity. The children were forbidden even to at- 
tend Sabbath School, which was a source of great grief to 
young John. The conversion of his sister, and of a day 

236 



John Inskip 237 

laborer of his father's farm convinced John that there was 
something supernatural in religion, and he determined to dis- 
cover it for himself. 

April 1, 1832, in a service following evening preaching, 
he broke away from his companion, who tried to deter him, 
and, rushing to the altar, found salvation within one hour. 
That night he joined the church, though he knew it would 
greatly displease his father. His mother said, "Well, indeed, 
I am very sorry, as all your religion will be over in a few 
days. You are too young.** His sister Martha, who was 
home on a visit, encouraged him. The father was greatly 
afflicted over it, but said nothing to him of it for several 
months. 

The lad of sixteen years felt it was his duty to exhort sin- 
ners to flee from the wrath to come, and the Lord gave him some 
souls. The keeper of the saddler shop heard the lad at his 
devotions in the corn-field, and asked the privilege of accom- 
panying him. Later John was visiting him in his shop, when 
another man, anxious about his soul, stopped in. John locked 
the door and determined to hold on until victory came. The 
saddler was wonderfully saved, but the other seemed to get 
no relief in spite of much agonizing. Finally he cried, *'0 
Lord, if you'll bless me I'll join meeting!** To join the Meth- 
odists then meant to be despised. Immediately he clapped his 
hands, and shouted, "Glory! Glory!'* 

On his father's farm stood an old blacksmith shop. After 
much earnest prayer, he besought his father to let him use the 
shop for meetings. The incensed father said, "I will talk to 
your mother about it.** John kept on praying. The mother's 
reply to the father was, "Let him have it by all means. If he 
don't get something to keep him home, he will kill himself run- 
ning about to hold meetings elsewhere." And so permission 



238 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

was granted, and the delighted boy went to work, white- 
washing the walls, covering the ground floor with tan and 
straw, and providing rude seats. It was lighted by tallow dips. 
There his happy soul saw eighty persons converted to God! 
As the revival spread, a church was organized. All went well 
until John's two sisters were converted. The father now re- 
solved upon desperate measures. "What? My daughters be- 
come Methodists? Why, it is the heaviest curse that could 
have come upon me.*' It was resolved that the daughters 
should be shut up in a room, and not allowed to attend Meth- 
odist meetings any more. The blacksmith shop was to be 
closed. Then John was informed that in the morning he 
should leave his father's roof. His only response was, "Father 
by the grace of God, I'll save my soul." Next morning his 
father overheard him praying in the barn for the salvation of 
his father. This enraged him yet more, and he said he wished 
the barn, and all it contained, and his son also, would take lire 
and burn up! Having encouraged his sisters, John went out 
from home, rejoicing that he was counted worthy to suffer for 
Jesus' sake, and singing as he went along: 

".Jesus all the day long is my joy and my song, 
Oh, that all His salvation might see," etc. 

He intended to apprentice himself out and learn some trade. 
He stayed with the class-leader over night, and returned home 
to get some more of his clothes. The storm of rage and grief 
had passed away, and his parents were serious and tender. 
Heavenly joy lit up the faces of his sisters. In the evening 
the father said with considerable agitation, "John, we must 
have prayers in the family. I will read, and you must pray." 
He read the fifty-third of Isaiah, and, while reading, became 
so much affected that he was obliged to stop and give vent to 
his feelings in weeping. John prayed with great fervor and 



John Inskip 239 

faith. He did not have to leave home again, but stayed, and 
for several nights prayed with his father. The class-leader 
came to assist; the father took hold in prayer, and blessed vic- 
tory came. Later the mother was also saved, and John's joy 
was inexpressible. The work of the Lord went forward in 
the old blacksmith shop. It was converted into a neat little 
meeting-house, and became a regular appointment on Radner 
Circuit. 

He spent a brief time in Dickinson College, Carlisle, Pa. 
In 1 835 he was licensed to preach by Rev. J. Potts, presiding 
elder. He became one of three preachers who traveled a large 
circuit in Chester Co., Pa. With a good horse and set oi 
saddle-bags he set out from home. His father bade him a 
tearful "Goodbye." The "God bless you" of mother, sis- 
ters and neighbors attended him. A thrill of holy joy ani- 
mated his soul, as he literally gave up all to follow Jesus. He 
had been faithful over a few things. Now God rapidly en- 
larged his sphere of usefulness. 

The first revival on his new circuit was in a room of a 
tavern, when men came in from the adjoining bar, were awak- 
ened by the youthful preacher, and sought salvation at the 
altar extemporized for the occasion. 

Mr. Inskip was an inveterate user of tobacco, especially 
fond of smoking. He never thought of it injuring his robust 
constitution, but several times got some conviction about it not 
setting a very good example for others. He tried several times 
to quit, he and another even signing a pledge to abstain, but 
not until he had preached many years did he positively and for- 
ever give it up. It was immediately after he received the ex- 
perience of holiness that he awakened to the Scriptural light 
upon it and was completely delivered, so that he came to loathe 
even the smell of tobacco smoke. We must remember, this 



240 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

was in a day when it was the common custom for ministers to 
smoke if they chose so to do. Thank God, we live in a day 
when a clean standard in this matter is required of ministers 
in most evangelical churches, and in holiness churches the stan- 
dard is the same for men in the pew as for those in the pulpit. 

He sought a deeper experience, and his diary gives re- 
peated accounts of self-examination and confession of short- 
comings. Twice he entered into the experience of heart purity, 
but through lack of knowledge and instruction, and by failing 
to testify to it, he soon relapsed into an ordinary state of relig- 
ious experience. Still the Lord blessed him, lured him to Him- 
self, and gave him souls. He served fourteen months in in- 
cessant labor as chaplain in the Civil War. Nine of those 
months his wife assisted him in the spiritual work, and in nurs- 
ing the wounded. 

While he was serving a pastorate in Brooklyn, he and his 
wife attended Sing Sing camp-meeting. She had been seeking 
a deeper experience, and at that time was enabled to claim 
entire sanctification by faith in Jesus' blood. Her joy was un- 
utterable. Her husband was embarrassed and disappointed. 
He had contracted a prejudice against the profession of entire 
sanctification and the folks who claimed to experience it, though 
he felt a need in his own heart for "more religion'* and a 
"deeper work of grace." The ringing testimony of Mrs. In- 
skip when she returned home stirred the church, and some 
seekers came forward for prayers. One member expressed 
the opinion that holiness was what the whole church needed. 
Inskip exhorted the folks to go on, but confesses he didn't 
know where they were going to. He was led to preach from 
Hebrews 12: I: "Let us lay aside every weight"; his ex- 
hortation was pointed and direct, to do it norv. The Spirit 
whispered, "Do it yourself." Again the inner voice spoke. 



John Inskip 241 

He decided. In the same earnest voice he said, "Come, breth- 
ren, follow your pastor. I call heaven and earth to witness 
that I now declare I will be henceforth and forever the Lord's.'* 
His faith gathered strength, and "looking unto Jesus," he ex- 
claimed with unutterable rapture, "I am, O Lord, wholly and 
forever Thine!" In that act of abandonment and faith the 
blessed work was accomplished. The bliss, the triumph, the 
unutterable peace of that hour remained a land-mark and a 
turning point in his life and ministry. In his diary he wrote: 
**My soul was indeed wonderfully blessed. I cannot tell 
when I was ever more filled with the Spirit." ** Wholly and 
forever the Lord's" seemed to be the formula of his sealmg 
unto the Lord. 

The same night, after his sanctifi cation, eight souls were 
converted, and the revival wave swelled until three hundred 
were converted. A special meeting for the promotion of holi- 
ness was established and kept up in the parsonage. He sought 
the company of Dr. and Mrs. Phoebe Palmer, who had held 
up the doctrine of holiness faithfully in New York. He de- 
sired their assistance in his own church. At first his testi- 
monies were in rather general terms, but he became convinced 
of the impropriety of thus doing. "Perhaps this was owing 
to certain prejudices my mind had formed before I enjoyed the 
blessed influences now reigning within. It has, however, been 
made clear as my duty, on all proper occasions, to tell the 
wondrous story that the *Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ 
cleanseth from all unrighteousness.' I hope the Lord will aid 
me to declare the wondrous power of perfect love." **How 
the fire of Divine love burns in my soul! Such near access to 
God — such tranquil joy — I never knew before. My soul has 
often been filled with transport, but I never before had such 



242 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

peace. Oh, sweet peace! Holy calm! How my heart is 
thrilled! I wish I could put my experience into words. 

"My mind had long been prejudiced against the efforts 
made by a few godly brethren to keep this flame alive in our 
church. I said not much against them; it is true, I could not. 
The doctrine I knew to be of God.'* *'My faith fixes my at- 
tention on the infinite merit of Christ. Precious Lamb ! Glo- 
rious Redeemer! My soul is filled with Thy love and satis- 
fied with Thy presence.'* 

"Few believed that the work would long continue. Some 
of his ministerial associates urged him not to make any rash 
promises, or pledge that he would never more use tobacco, etc. 
'Poor Inskip; he is a jovial, good-hearted fellow. What a 
pity that he should have gone among those holiness fanatics! 
But it will be over soon. It is a religious spasm,' said they.** 
But the spasm lasted until death opened the portals of the 
radiant glory world. 

He no longer relished the heated controversies of the 
preachers* meetings. His soul became sick of the strife he 
had formerly entered into. He then gave up pastoral work, 
and gave himself entirely to evangelistic labors. 

The year 1 867 must be regarded as an epoch in holiness 
history. It was the year of the inauguration of the National 
Camp-meeting movement. Professors of holiness were subject 
to proscription and persecution in their home churches. Preach- 
ers of the doctrine of full salvation were regarded with more 
or less disapprobation. The need of establishing camp-meetings 
where holiness could, without hindrance, be specially taught, 
earnestly sought, and joyfully professed, was laid upon the 
hearts of some leaders in the movement. For months it was 
prayerfully laid upon the heart of Rev. W. B. Osborn. He 
visited Inskip, they prayed, wept and believed, and, arising 



John Inskip 243 

from their knees, took each other by the hand and pledged 
eternal fidelity to God and holiness. 

A number of brethren whose views were known to be 
purely Wesleyan were called together, and the movement was 
begun. The first camp-meeting was held at Vineland, N. J., 
July 17 to July 26, 1867. J. A. Wood, Benjamin Pome- 
roy, Alfred C. Cookman, Bishop Simpson, John Parker, B. 
W. Gorman, W. B. Osborne and John Inskip were some of 
the leading spirits in the infant organization. From the first 
the friends of holiness were enthusiastic. While the members 
were on their knees, the "National Camp-meeting Association 
for the Promotion of Holiness" was formed, and John S. In- 
skip was chosen first president, which position he held until 
death. All the business was transacted on their knees. Alfred 
Cookman concluded with a prayer of almost unexampled fer- 
vency. (It was he who, when departing from this life, cried 
triumphantly, "I am sweeping through the gates, washed in the 
blood of the Lamb!*'} Then joining hands, the brethren 
pledged fidelity to God, to holiness, and to each other. This 
is the only constitution they have ever had. The meetings 
seemed to be quite on the verge of heaven. Thereafter camp- 
meetings were held each summer, as many as four or five being 
held in one season. 

Up to the time of Inskip's death no less than fifty-two 
national camp-meetings had been held. At forty-eight of these 
he presided. The first two — Vineland and Manheim — were 
selected and arranged by the association. In every other in- 
stance they went by special invitation. Now their work ex- 
tends from coast to coast, and is the main meeins of keeping fuel 
on the flame of holiness teaching and experience in the M. E. 
church. If there is one note of warning we would like to 
raise, it would be: There is great danger of holiness preaching 



244 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

becoming merely professional. Gifted men can teach the doc- 
trine most charmingly and eloquently, and congregations, even 
on such occasions, are apt to settle back into merely being en- 
tertained. Therefore let these, and all camp-meetings, empha- 
size the importance of heartfelt, agonizing and prevailing 
prayer, that tides of Holy Ghost conviction and power may 
attend the preaching of the Word. May seekers not be hur- 
ried into a hasty profession, but be urged to complete confes- 
sion of carnality, and absolute, unreserved abandonment, and 
simple faith in the all-atoning blood. Thus, as the Holy 
Ghost obtains full sway. He will come in old-time power. 

In the summer of 1 880, John Inskip, W. Macdonald and 
J. A. Wood, accompanied by their wives, started a tour 
around the world, taking the big tent with them. Their ex- 
penses were borne by lovers of holiness. Ministers in England, 
Rome, Alexandria, India, Australia and Honolulu threw 
open their arms of welcome. Great was the fruitage in lead- 
ing missionaries cind native converts into the experience of entire 
sanctiiication. 

Mr. Inskip*s exhaustive labors finally told on his seemingly 
inexhaustible energies, and he was compelled to circumscribe 
his labors. His spirit was mellowing, and his friends detected 
he was ripening for heaven. His strenuous labors were broken 
by periods of ill health, yet his love for the work was so un- 
bounded that the general of so many camp-meeting battles kept 
in the forefront, crying familiarly, "Come on! Come on!" 
"There is a fountain filled with blood" became the battle hymn 
with which almost every National camp was opened, and 
mighty were the tides of victory and salvation that rolled in 
upon its heavenly waves. 



John Inskip 243 

At one camp he was called upon to preach, but his Yoice 
was almost gone. The singing lent inspiration. He announced 
his text, **And I saw a great white throne.** His voice re- 
turned as clear as ever. The Lord wonderfully helped him. 
The thousands who came into the congregation became so in- 
terested that they instinctively arose to their feet and gave 
vent to their feelings in a tremendous shout of praise. Sinners 
shrieked aloud for help, and scores were converted. Such 
scenes were not unusual in early holiness camps. 

His last sermon was preached at Waynesburg, Pa., from 
the text, "God hath from the beginning chosen us to salvation 
through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth." 
(II Thess. 2: 13.) He spoke two solid hours in a glad, ex- 
ultant voice. With that sermon the gospel trumpet fell from 
his lips. Three days later he dropped, paralyzed and uncon- 
scious. Gradually he regained ability to walk about a little, 
and could speak so his loving wife could understand. Many 
warriors of the cross visited him in his last days. His suffer- 
ings were very excruciating, but he retained a patient, vic- 
torious spirit to the last. He was able to join in song with 
others, and again and again his countenance reflected the heav- 
enly glow in his soul. Various of his last utterances were; 
**A1I is well! Glory! Hallelujah!** *'I am dwelling on the 
mountain.** While friends were singing *'The Sweet By-and- 
By,** the dying man pressed his wife to him, raised her hands 
in his, and with a countenance beaming with celestial glory 
shouted, "Victory! Triumph! Triumph!'* These were his 
last words. He then quietly slept away. The last battle was 
fought, the victory won, and he was crowned at last (March 
7, 1884). 



LIZZIE JOHNSON 



ONE of the most remarkable examples of suffering devo- 
tion is that of Lizzie Johnson, who was an invalid for 
twenty-six years. For eighteen years she never raised her head 
from her pillow nor sat in a sitting position. But during those 
years she raised $18,000. You wonder how? Love always 
finds a medium of expression, and her love for her Savior 
caused her to love the souls of the heathen, and to desire to 
spread the Gospel in benighted lands. 

First she pieced a missionary quilt. She hoped to sell it 
for fifty dollars, and thus redeem an African slave, but she 
found no purchaser. Bishop Frank W. Warne learned of it, 
and asked her to send it to him. He took it with him, showing 
it to large congregations, telling Lizzie Johnson's story. In- 
stead of $50 the quilt raised $600. 

In addition to the quilt, she made and sold thousands of 
scriptural book-marks, all over the world, attending to all the 
correspondence herself. Hear her own words: 

"I have worked very hard as I lie on my bed of pain, and am 
thankful to God for the opportunity of so doing. The profits 
resulting from the sale of my book-marks go to maintain native 
workers in foreign lands. The work overtaxes my strength, 
yet I am eager to toil on and do all I can to enable these native 
pastors and Bible women to continue their soul-saving work.** 
She supported five Bible women, two in China cuid three 
in India. She went to her heavenly mansion September 2 1 , 
1909. 

246 




Adoniram Judson 



ADONIRAM JUDSON AND HIS THREE WIVES 



ADONIRAM JUDSON, pioneer missionary to the 
Burman Empire, was born August 8, 1 788. His 
father was for many years a Congregationalist minister. From 
the time his mother taught him to read, at the age of three 
years, he manifested a love for books and ability for intense 
study. His work at school and at Brown University was 
marked by the best scholarship. The companionship of a 
young deist at school imparted to him some infidel views, and 
wellnigh misdirected his opening career. But the sudden death 
of that comrade awakened Adoniram to his own danger. He 
flew to the Lord for refuge, and in 1 800 publicly professed 
his faith. 

Some literature he read directed his mind to the subject 
of missions in the Orient. Moreover, while walking alone in 
the woods near the college, meditating and praying, the Lord 
applied that Scripture, "Go ye into all the world, and preach 
the Gospel to every creature." So definite and powerful was 
the persuasion to his mind that the Lord was giving to him 
his life call, that he there fully decided to obey the conmiand 
at any cost. 

His parents begged him to accept the pulpit of a large 
church in Boston. His sister plead with him not to leave his 
native land. But go he must, for the voice of the Lord had 
called him across the waters, and heathen hands reaching out 
for aid called not in vain. 

249 



250 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Missionary effort in America at that time was directed 
only to the Indians and western settlements. After some time, 
he and three other like-minded young men offered themselves 
to their church authorities for work in the foreign field. Hav- 
ing yet no organization devoted to foreign missions, an effort 
was made to induce the London Missionary Society to co- 
operate with the churches in America in sending out these 
young men. Failing in this, a Society for the Support of For- 
eign Missions was formed in America, and Judson, Nott, 
Newell and Hall were appointed to labor in Asia. 

In February, 1812, he married Miss Ann Hasseltine, a 
young woman of vigorous intellect, ready pen, and sound con- 
version and deep religious feeling. Witty, gay and amiable, 
she sought pleasure in the giddy whirl of fashionable amuse- 
ments, until dark forebodings as to her final destiny brought 
her to a complete dedication of herself to the Lord. All the 
energy of her strong nature was now concentrated in the Lord's 
good service. "Having once laid aside worldly hopes, she bent 
the whole energy of a cultivated intellect, solemn conviction of 
truth, and ardent and enthusiastic temperament, and great de- 
cision of character, to the one great object of life, to honoring 
and glorifying the name of her Savior." 

"Calmly, solemnly, and with spirits chastened by prayer, 
they estimated the hazards and toils of their future life. They 
went forth strong in their love of Christ, earnest in their re- 
solve to convert the heathen, knowing that before them lay a 
life of rigid self-denial, arduous toil, and, most probably, an 
early death.** 

The East India Company, fearing that the introduction of 
Christianity among the Hindoos would incite them to revolt, 
ordered the party of five missionaries to re-embark and return 
to America or England from Calcutta. By a succession of 



Adoniram Judson 25 1 

providential occurrences, which the world would regard as 
mere accidents, they reached Rangoon, on Burman soil, in the 
spring of 1813. Already Mrs. Judson's health was affected, 
and she was carried on shore in a chair. 

The Burmese Empire is Eastern India, east of the Ganges, 
and bordering on China and Siam. The government was an 
unmitigated despotism of the sternest type. The king was the 
acknowledged owner of the soil, and the people were prac- 
tically his slaves. Individual enterpr.se is thus stifled. A 
man's life may be brutally taken, or his earnings confiscated, 
upon the slightest real or supposed provocation. 

Mr. and Mrs. Judson at once applied themselves to mas- 
ter the difficult language. He wrote a grammar of the Bur- 
mese language for the use of future missionaries. For eight 
brief months their loneliness was relieved by the sweet baby 
life of a little son. When death severed the tender tie, their 
chastened hearts murmured not. 

Like all pioneer missionaries, they had to labor long and 
patiently before seeing results. Their sublime faith is an in- 
spiration to faithful, plodding laborers. He wrote: "It re- 
quires a much longer time than I have been here to make an 
impression on a heathen people. If they ask, *What prospect 
of ultimate success is there?' tell them, 'As much as there is 
an Almighty and faithful God, who will perform His prom- 
ises.' If that does not satisfy them, beg them to let me stay 
and make the attempt. Or if they are unwilling to risk their 
bread on such a forlorn hope, as has nothing but the Word 
of God to sustain it, beg of them at least not to prevent others 
from giving us bread. And if we live some twenty or thirty 
years they may hear from us again." 

After five years of toil they were able to write home of 
the first sincere inquirer after the new religion. He became a 



252 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

true convert, who endured much ostracism and suffering for 
Jesus' sake. 

Mr. Judson's health failed, and he left the mission station 
for three months' absence for recuperation. But for seven 
long months he was absent, his faithful wife continuing the 
school work. News that his vessel had never reached its port 
added to the suspense. The other missionary and family left 
for Bengal, owing to some threatening dangers. With resig- 
nation and trust in God, Mrs. Judson stood by her post of 
duty until her husband's safe return. His vessel had been 
driven from its course, and communication with his loved one 
made impossible. He had suffered intensely from lack of 
food and clothing, and was reduced by a raging fever. 

He now erected a little Zayat or church. Here, in the 
front part or porch, he sat all day instructing any passers-by 
who were interested enough to tarry and listen. In the second 
apartment his wife conducted a school, instructing a few na- 
tives in reading and the doctrines of Christianity. Here also 
Mr. Judson preached on the Sabbath. Gradually a little, 
timid congregation gathered about them. Fear of persecution 
by the government intimidated them. 

Mr. Judson had written: "The outlook is as bright as 
the promises of God." After seven years of faithful toil, his 
sublime faith was rewarded. 

In May, 1819, their first convert, Moung Nau, made a 
public profession of his faith in Jesus. In his journal Mr. 
Judson records: *'We have had the pleasure of sitting down, 
for the first time, at the Lord's table, with a converted Bur- 
man; and it was my privilege — a privilege to which I have 
been looking forward with desire for many years — to admin- 
ister the Lord's Supper in two languages." 



Adoniram Judson 253 

Mrs. Judson records: *'I have just had a very interesting 
meeting with the women, "fifteen in number. They appeared 
unusually solemn, and I could not help hoping that the Holy 
Spirit was hovering over us, and would ere long enlighten their 
precious, immortal souls. Their minds seem to be prepared 
to embrace the truth, as their prejudices in favor of the Bur- 
man religion are apparently destroyed. Oh, for the influences 
of that Spirit which can alone effect the mighty change!** 

One of the inquirers being summoned before the viceroy, 
or governor, to give account of the new religion, great fear fell 
upon the natives, whereupon Mr. Judson and a fellow mission- 
ary determined to visit the king, and beg for toleration for the 
teaching of Christianity among the Burmans. They took with 
them, as a present to the emperor, the Bible, in six volumes, 
covered in Burman style, with gold leaf, and each volume en- 
closed in a rich wrapper. In his magnificent golden throne- 
room, clad in the rich, gorgeous dress of an Eastern monarch, 
in due form the humble missionaries presented to this modern 
Ahasuerus their petition for toleration of Christianity, a tract 
stating their doctrines, also the elegant volumes of the Bible. 
He read the petition and handed it back without comment. He 
read about two lines of the tract and dashed it to the floor. 
He took no notice whatever of the Bible, and the missionaries 
were told to take it away. Notwithstanding the refusal of the 
emperor to grant protection to the new religion, the three con- 
verts remained steadfast, although the little congregation of 
inquirers dwindled. 

Mrs.- Judson*s health required her absence from the mis- 
sion station for some time to receive treatment at Bengal. Hei 
husband suffered much also from dysentery and fever. Re- 
turning to the mission station, her health became so bad that, 
in 1 82 1 . she left for England, and from thence returned to 



254 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

her parents* home in Bradford, Mass. During that time she 
wrote a History of the Burman Mission, which was instru- 
mental in awakening greater interest in their work. Like all 
true missionaries, her heart was in the foreign land, whose 
spiritual enlightenment through the Gospel was her consuming 
desire. In June, 1823, despite the entreaties of her friends to 
remain longer, she departed for her distant home. 

Dr. Wayland writes thus of her: "To great clearness of 
intellect, large powers of comprehension, and intuitive female 
sagacity, ripened by the constant necessity of independent ac- 
tion, she added that heroic disinterestedness which naturally 
loses all consciousness of self in the prosecution of a great ob- 
ject. To an ordinary observer she would have appeared sim- 
ply a self-possessed, well-bred, and very intelligent gentle- 
woman. A more intimate acquaintance would soon discover 
her to be a person of profound religious feeling, which was 
ever manifesting itself in efforts to impress upon others the im- 
portance of personal piety. The resources of her nature were 
never unfolded until some occasion occurred which demanded 
delicate tact, unflinching courage, and a power of resolute en- 
durance, even unto death. As she found herself among 
friends who were interested in the Burman mission, her re- 
serve melted away, her eye kindled, every feature was lighted 
up with enthusiasm, and she was everywhere acknowledged to 
be one of the most fascinating of women.'* 

In 1823 Mr. Judson finished the translation of the New 
Testament into Burmese. When his wife returned to Ran- 
goon he left for Ava, the capital of the empire, where he had 
obtained the grant of land to build a mission. Here he con- 
structed a small house of three rooms and a verandah. She 
wrote: **I hardly know how we shall bear the hot season, 
which is just commencing, as our house is built of boards, and 



II 



Adoniram Judson 255 

before night is heated like an oven. The thermometer, even 
in the shade, frequently rises to a hundred and eight degrees. 
We have worship every evening in Burman, when a number 
of the natives assemble, and every Sabbath Mr. Judson 
preaches on the other side of the river, in Dr. Price's house. 
We feel it an inestimable privilege that, amid all our discour- 
agements, we have the language, and are able constantly to 
communicate truths which can save the soul." 

In 1 824 war broke out between England and Burmah, 
and the missionaries passed through scenes of unparalleled 
horror. The manner of the emperor and court officials 
changed from friendliness to coldness and suspicion. Mr. 
Judson and some other foreign residents were roughly taken 
prisoners. Mr. Judson was unceremoniously arrested, bound 
with cords of torture, and dragged off to the death prison. The 
whole capital was in commotion, and no one's life was safe, 
especially foreigners. The magistrate returned to question 
Mrs. Judson. Before appearing before him, she destroyed 
all her letters, journals and writings of every kind, lest they 
should disclose the fact that they had correspondents in Eng- 
land, and had written down every occurrence since their ar- 
rival. She then went out before the magistrate, who ques- 
tioned her very minutely. Then he ordered the gates of the 
compound closed, and placed her under guard of ten ruffians. 
Their diabolical language and threats were kept up all night 
to terrify Mrs. Judson, her four little Burman student girls, 
and two Bengalee servants. 

Mr. Judson and the other white foreigners were confined 
in the death prison with three pairs of iron fetters each. On 
the third day a petition of Mrs. Judson to be allowed to visit 
the governor of the city and director of prison affairs, with a 
present, was granted. By paying an exorbitant bribe, she ob- 



256 Men and Wowen of Deep Piety 

tained some mitigation of the prisoner's sufferings. He, and 
the others who paid a Hke sum, were removed to an open shed. 
Here Mrs. Judson was allowed to send them some mats and 
food. 

The next disaster was the taking of all their belongings. 
Boxes, trunks and drawers were ransacked, and everything 
taken of any value, except some silver and small things which 
Mrs. Judson had previously hidden safely away. Books, 
medicines, worn clothing, and a few minor articles were left. 
She communicated by writing a little to her husband, but the 
poor fellow who carried the communications, when discovered, 
was beaten and put in the stocks. 

For two or three months she was pestered by petty officers, 
all of which desired to enrich themselves at her expense, and 
she was constantly giving unreasonable gifts to secure some 
small favor to alleviate her husband's afflictions. She writes: 
"For the seven following months hardly a day passed that I 
did not visit some one of the members of government or 
branches of the royal family, in order to gain their influence in 
our behalf. By repeated visits I gained several friends, who 
were ready to assist me with articles of food, though in a pri- 
vate manner, and who used their influence to destroy the im- 
pression of our being in any way engaged in the present war. 
But no one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in 
favor of a foreigner while there were such continual reports of 
the success of the English arms. 

"During these seven months, the continual extortions and 
oppressions to which the white prisoners were subject are in- 
describable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, some- 
times pieces of cloth, and handkerchiefs. 

"Sometimes, for days and days together, I could not 
go into the prison till after dark, when I had two miles to walk 



Adoniram Judson 257 

in returning to the house. Oh, how many, many times have I 
returned from that dreary prison at nine o'clock at night, soli-^ 
tary and worn out with fatigue and anxiety, and endeavored 
to invent some new scheme for the release of the prisoners. 
For nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every 
thought with present scenes and sufferings, that I seldom re- 
flected on a single occurrence of my former life or recollected 
that I had a single friend in existence out of Ava. 

"My prevailing opinion was that my husband would suffer 
violent death, and that I should, of course, become a slave, 
and languish out a miserable though short existence, in the 
tyrannic hands of some unfeeling monster. But the consola- 
tions of religion, in these trying circumstances, were neither 
few nor small. It taught me to look beyond this world to that 
rest, that peaceful happy rest, where Jesus reigns, and oppres- 
sion never enters." 

With her own hands she made a little Bamboo room in 
the prison enclosure, where for a time her husband was per- 
mitted to be by himself and she was allowed to visit him some- 
times. 

Seven months after her husband's arrest she gave birth to 
a little daughter, which she named Maria. 

When her child was two months old the condition of her 
husband was greatly aggravated. Every comfort was taken 
away, and about one hundred, bound in five pairs of fetters 
each, were confined in one room, with no ventilation except 
what air could come in through the cracks, and all this in the 
hot season of the year! When she once more interceded with 
the governor he wept like a child, and told her that three 
times he had been instructed to assassinate all the white pris- 
oners, but had not done it. He also promised that he would 
never execute her husband. But under such a despotic gov- 



258 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ernment, especially in time of war, he was helpless to liberate 
him. 

Mr. Judson was taken with fever. In this condition, he 
and the other prisoners were stealthily dragged from the 
prison, tied two and two, and driven eight miles, on foot, in 
the heat of the day. One poor Greek fell down, overcome 
by the heat, and expired shortly after they reached their des- 
tination. Driven barefoot over the burning sand, the feet of 
the prisoners became blistered, then entirely destitute of skin. 
In his weakened condition, and having had no food that morn- 
ing, Mr. Judson could not have survived the cruel journey 
had not a kindly man assisted him. The next day they were 
taken further, to a dilapidated prison at Oung-pen-la. Here 
they expected to be burned. 

In anguish of mind and weakness of body, Mrs. Judson, 
with her babe in her arms, two Burman children and a Ben- 
galee servant, followed. For six months — wretched months 
indeed — rshe lodged in a little crowded room. She still had 
some money, which she used in procuring scant provisions for 
her little family and the prisoners. She had not a single 
household convenience — not a chair or seat of any kind. One 
of the Burman girls took the small-pox, and, although Mrs. 
Judson vaccinated her household, the inoculation was not ef- 
fective on little Maria, who was then only three and a half 
months old. The care of the little Burman girl, the anxiety 
over her little Maria, who also took the small-pox; the fre- 
quent trips to the prison to alleviate, as much as possible, the 
suffering of her husband, the faithful woman became entirely 
exhausted, emaciated, and afflicted with small-pox. She lay 
for over two months on the mat in her little room. The faith- 
ful services of their Bengalee cook likely saved the lives of 
the devoted missionaries during that time of hardship. 



Adoniram Judson 259 

*'Our dear little Maria was the greatest sufferer at this 
time, my illness depriving her of her usual nourishment, and 
neither a nurse or a drop of milk could be procured for her in 
the village. By making presents to the jailors, I obtained 
leave for Mr. Judson to come out of prison and take the 
emaciated creature around the village, to beg a little nourish- 
ment from those mothers who had young children. Her cries 
in the night were heart-rending when it was impossible to sup- 
ply her wants. I now began to think the very afflictions of 
Job had come upon me. When in health, I could bear the 
various trials through which I was called to pass. But to be 
confined with sickness, and unable to assist those who were 
so dear to me, when in distress, was almost too much for me 
to bear; and had it not been for the conolations of religion, 
and an assured conviction that every additional trial was or- 
dered by infinite love and mercy, I must have sunk under my 
accumulated sufferings. The annoyance, the extortions and 
oppressions to which we were subject, are beyond enumeration 
or description." 

Mr. Judson was taken from the prison and compelled to 
act as translator, and sometimes as mediator for the Burmese 
government. His wife returned to the mission house in Ava, 
where she was prostrated with spotted fever. As the English 
steadily gained in the \var, the Burmese government was com- 
pelled to release the foreign prisoners. The confiscated prop- 
erty of the Judsons was returned to them, except the mission 
house, which had been destroyed. 

They removed to Amherst, the missionary prospect bright- 
ening before them, as they were now under British rule. Mr. 
Judson left his wife on July 5, 1826, to bt absent three 
months or more on a journey to Rangoon and Ava, the scenes 
of their former labors. During his absence the frail babe re- 



260 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

quired such anxious care from the mother that she declined in 
health. Going down with intermittent fever, she passed to her 
reward in Heaven, October 24, 1826, away from all rela- 
tives, not even comforted by the presence and aid of her hus- 
band, who had, through so many trying circumstances, been 
the subject of her love and solicitous care. But her faith 
shone brightly as she lay down her weary frame and anxious 
cares, to go to be with the Lord she loved so well. 

Six months later the tender babe was laid by its mother's 
side in the mission yard. Surely these devoted missionaries 
partook in an unusual degree of the self-sacrificing love of 
Him who gave His life that we might have eternal life. 

During the Burman war, Mr. and Mrs. George Board- 
man arrived at Calcutta to enter upon missionary labors in 
Burmah. At the close of the war they began labors in Am- 
herst. Later they removed to Maulmain, twenty-five miles 
distant. They took a special interest in the wild Karens who 
lived nomadic lives out from the towns. Their labors were 
blest to many. 

After six years of patient, faithful labor, Mr. Boardman 
fell asleep in Jesus, a victim of consumption of the lungs. His 
wife, with her little family, remained in Burmah, teaching a 
school, and doing what she could to enlighten the heathen. 
One said of her, "She was a lovely wife, fond mother, win- 
ning companion, and the most finished and faultless specimen 
of an American woman." More than that, she had lived a 
beautiful, consistent, zealous Christian life since the time of 
her definite conversion in young womanhood. Her life, from 
childhood up, had been one of loyal, unselfish devotion to her 
loved ones at home, and then to the cause of the Lord in that 
distant land. 



Adoniram Judson 261 

Seven and one-half years after the death of his first wife, 
Mr. Judson was married to the widow of George Boardman. 
She wrote of him, after years of married life together: "He is 
a complete assemblage of all that a woman's heart could wish 
to love and honor." 

During her residence in India, she translated Bunyan's 
Pilgrim Progress into Burmese; translated from Burmese to 
Peguan several tracts, a Life of Christ, which she had pre- 
viously translated from English to Burmese, and the New 
testament." 

She sent George, the son of her first husband, to Amer- 
ica, where he was educated, and at the early age of fifteen 
was soundly converted. 

Mr. Judson's health declined, requiring a sea voyage and 
absence from his work for ten months. The Lord raised him 
up, for his work was not yet done. The climatic conditions 
brought many illnesses among their little brood of children, 
and several tiny graves were made by them in that distant 
land. 

At Maulmain Mrs. Judson again commenced her daily 
round of duties, translating, teaching, advising, and the thou- 
sand minor cares devolving upon her as a missionary's wife 
and the mother of young children. In 1 844 another child was 
added to the little flock, and from the time of its birth Mrs. 
Judson's health declined rapidly. The disease which so often 
had threatened her life in former years returned with great 
violence, and day after day saw her growing weaker. A sea 
voyage was pronounced the only means of protracting her 
life, and, as she was too weak and helpless to go alone. Dr. 
Judson resolved to accompany her. 

Leaving the three youngest children with their missionary 
friends in India, they embarked with the other three in the ship 



262 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Paragon, for England, in April, 1845. On July 5 they ar- 
rived at Port Louis, Isle of France. "Here she seemed much 
improved, so that Mr. Judson thought of returning to Maul- 
main, and letting her proceed upon the voyage alone. But m 
the interval waiting for the other ship she rapidly declined, 
and as their ship was a short distance from shore the immor- 
tal spirit made its exit from the house of clay. As the end 
drew near she remained entirely tranquil. No shade of doubt 
or fear or anxiety ever passed over her mind. She had a pre- 
vailing desire to depart and be with Christ. 'I am longing to 
depart', and *What can I want beside?' revealed the spiritual 
peace and joy of her mind. Yet at times the thought of her 
native land, to which she was approaching, after an absence 
of twenty years, and a longing desire to see once more her son 
Giorge, her parents, and the friends of her youth, constrained 
her to say, *I am in a straight betwixt two — let the will of 
God be done.' During her last days she spent much time 
praying for the early conversion of her children." 

Saying, "I ever love the Lord Jesus Christ," and kissing 
her husband farewell, she went to sleep in Jesus. They made 
their way to the shore in boats, and there, with brief service 
attended by her husband, friends, and many of the natives in 
the strange island, her body was laid away. 

Mr. Judson writes: "But I was obliged to hasten on 
board ship, and we immediately went to sea. On the following 
morning, no vestige of the island was discernable in the dis- 
tant horizon. For a few days, in the solitude of my cabin, 
with my poor children crying around me, I could not help 
abandoning myself to heart-breaking sorrow. But the promises 
of the Gospel came to my aid, and faith stretched her view 
to the bright world of eternal life, and anticipated a happy 
meeting with loved ones whose bodies are mouldering at Am- 



Adoniram Judson 263 

herst and St. Helena. I exceedingly regret that there is no 
portrait of the second, as of the first Mrs. Judson. Her soft 
blue eyes, mild aspect, her lovely face and elegant form, have 
never been delineated on canvass. They must soon pass away 
from the memory even of her children, but they will remain 
forever enshrined in her husband's heart.** 

"She sleeps sweetly here, on this rock of the ocean, 

Away from the home of her youth. 
And far from the land where, with heartfelt devotion, 
She scattered the bright beams of truth," 

Mr. Judson continued his voyage to the United States, 
where, after an absence of thirty-three years, he was most 
warmly welcomed by his friends. He left his three children 
to be educated in America, and the next year returned to In- 
dia, accompanied by his third wife, Emily Chubbuck Judson. 

She was a bright young woman of twenty-eight years, of 
superior mind and education, and possessed unusual literary 
talent, as evidenced by the many polished productions from her 
pen linder the nom de plume of Fanny Forester. Converted 
when young, she took a warm interest in missions, and in the 
souls about her, while engaged in her profession as teacher. 
Her name was fast rising in literary ranks. Her short sketches 
were collected under the title of Alderbrooky and 33,000 
copies sold. Her contributions to periodical literature were 
very popular. Yet she unhesitatingly gave up these bright 
prospects to accept the arduous labors of a missionary's wife. 

She was a cheerful, blithesome companion for her rather 
elderly husband, and it seemed to renew his youth to live once 
more in the joys of family life. She was a worthy successor 
of his previous holy companions, was a faithful missionary and 
teacher, a kind mother to his children, as well as her own. 

In the third year of her life in India she became very ill. 



264 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

so that her husband feared she, too, would soon slip from his 
side. But he was spared that sorrow. She slowly recovered, 
though her hold on life continued very precarious. In the 
same year Mr. Judson took a severe cold while assisting his 
wife in the care of a sick child one night. This was followed 
by the prostrating fever of the country, and his frame, weak- 
ened by pulmonary complaints, could not survive the attack. 

They changed homes, took a little voyage, etc., but to no 
avail. His strength entirely failed. The Doctor then pre- 
scribed a long ocean voyage as the only possible hope. Mrs. 
Judson could not then go with him, but, considering it a duty 
to make every reasonable effort to regain health, with anguish 
of heart, they parted. A kind friend accompanied him as 
he was carried on board on a cot. He rallied a very little, 
then declined. With solenm reverence the sailors viewed the 
death of a saint. 

"They lowered him to his ocean grave without a prayer. 
His freed spirit had soared above the reach of earthly inter- 
cession, and there they left him in his unquiet sepulchre. But 
we know that, while the unconscious clay is drifting on the 
shifting currents of the restless main, nothing can disturb the 
hallowed rest of the immortal spirit. Neither could he have 
a more fitting monument than the blue waves which visit every 
coast, for his warm sympathies went to the ends of the earth, 
and included the whole family of man." 

Mrs. Judson's health was too frail to remain in India, 
much as she desired to do so. In 1 85 1 she returned to the 
United States, and three years after her return she died of 
consumption. Thus closed her life of love, usefulness and 
piety. 




John Knox 



JOHN KNOX 



< < T OHN KNOX is the foremost public man that Scot- 
^ land has produced, and was for twenty-five years a 
formative force, molding into new life the church, the state, 
and the educational system of the nation, and ever since his 
death the shaping power of his ideals have made themselves 
felt.'* 

Very little is known of the first forty years of his life. 
He was born near Haddington, Scotland, in 1505. His 
father, though of peasant condition, seemed to be a man of 
means, and gave his son the best educational advantages. He 
was near forty when he learned Greek, and fifty when he 
learned Hebrew. He began to preach when forty-two, and 
what a mighty proclaimer of the truth he was! Of him it 
was said that he would become so vigorous and active that it 
seemed he would "ding the pulpit into blads and fly oot o* it.'* 
Multitudes were quickened into newness of life and learned 
from him the consolations of the Gospel. 

Patrick Hamilton had been burned for his faith in the 
college yard of St. Andrews eighteen years before. Now 
Knox's spiritual father, George Wishart, the saintly evangelist, 
suffered a like fate. To speak forth the truth in such threat- 
ening times was the work of no weakling. To worship the 
Lord according to one's light and conscience, in spite of the 
threatening wrath and vengeance of such queens as Bloody 
Mary and Mary Stuart (both guilty of murder and adultery), 

267 



268 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

to proclaim the truth, denouncing the wickedness of sovereigns 
and people, publicly and unsparingly, to congregations of as 
many as three thousands in St. Giles' church and elsewhere, 
reminds one of Elijah the Tishbite. But he was not naturall}) 
a fearless man. He spoke thus boldly because he was 
strengthened with might by the Divine Spirit within him, sus- 
tained by a life of prayer and communion with God. Conse- 
quently Mary, Queen of Scots, feared John Knox more than 
the Spanish fleet! 

In 1 525 a statute was published against heresy, making 
it unlawful to discuss matters of religion, and to be merely 
suspected of heresy was to suffer. Any who fled from Scot- 
land to more liberal lands were to be condemned. The Bible 
was almost unknown. The machinery of the Roman church 
was used to excommunicate, to anathematize, and to interdict 
the living, and to condemn the dead in the fire of purgatory 
until their living relatives and friends paid sufficient fees foi" 
masses to be said by the lazy priests for their release. Nun- 
neries and monasteries swarmed in the land, and sent out over 
the country their broods of begging nuns and monks, living 
generally in luxury and licentiousness, and withal making 
great pretense to holiness. * 'There were friars white, and 
friars black, and friars gray, wandering everywhere, polluting 
homes and devouring the substance of the people. The nobles 
shared in the wealth of the church.*' There was no preach- 
ing except by a priest like John Knox, who saw the sins of 
priests, nuns and people, and cried aloud and spared not, even 
at the risk of his own life. 

Four months after Knox began to preach, he was sitting 
chained and half naked in the galleys at Rouen, and lashed 
by a French slave-driver. For nineteen months he was a pris- 
oner on board the French galley. He became prematurely old 



John Knox 269 

through the hardships he suffered, of poverty, slander, exile, 
defection of friends and malignity of foes. A price was put 
on his head. He was arrested for treason and many times 
was burned in effigy. He spent his life forwarding the Re- 
formation in Scotland, and was the friend of the French re- 
former, Calvin. 

Bloody Mary said of him: "I fear the prayers of John 
Knox more than all the armies of Europe." And well she 
might, for such mighty prayers will hasten one on, either to 
Heaven or hell. 

Mary Stuart's outrage of decency led to her exile, and 
her infant son was made king, with the good Murray as regent. 
But a foul hand assassinated Murray. This aroused Knox, 
who addressed three thousand people at St. Giles in a funeral 
sermon. He loved his nation, and he grieved over the sad 
plight of the people. He was stricken with apoplexy, and 
the friends of Mary rejoiced now that his voice was silenced. 
But after a few months he rallied, and leaning on the arm of 
a faithful friend, he again addressed the people. 

The queen's party became busy, and Knox was shot in 
his own house. Still he lived. **I am not a man of the law, 
to sell my tongue for silver or favor of the world. I have 
plainly and boldly learned to call wickedness by its own name — 
a fig a fig, and a spade a spade. What I have been to my 
own country, albeit this unthankful age will not know; yet 
the ages to come will be compelled to bear witness to the 
truth. It seems a thing most unreasonable that, in my old age, 
I should be compelled to fight against shadows and owls that 
dare not abide the light." 

"He used to call the students about him, and exhort them 
to study well to know God, and to stand by the good cause.'* 



270 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

**In August, 1572, Knox came back to Edinburgh. 
There came the news of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
The stairs and halls of the Louvre had been slippery with 
the blood of the nobleet and best. There had been no mercy 
for babe or gentlewoman or hoary-headed men. The blood 
had reached the shoe-latchets. The streets of Paris had been 
piled with the bodies of the dead. One hundred thousand 
Protestants were slain in France that night. Phillip II of 
Spain rejoiced. At Rome, the pope and cardinals went in 
state to church, and sang the Te Deums in honor of the mas- 
sacre. Knox organized the protest of Scotland against the 
crime. He was to preach in old St. Giles. Two men lifted 
the stricken old man into the pulpit. There were tears in his 
voice, for among the murdered were some of the dearest 
friends, more than brothers to his soul. The French ambas- 
sador came to church clad in all the insignia of his rank and 
office to intimidate the old man. Knox's voice that day made 
the very shingles on the roof of St. Giles rattle, like a prophet 
of old. Fixing his eye on the French ambassador — and they 
shone out from his wrinkled, wizened face like two balls of 
fire — he called the king of France a murderer, from whom 
and from whose posterity the vengeance of God would never 
depart. 

The closing days were near. The day Knox installed his 
successor the sorrowing congregation saw their decrepit leader 
going down High Street to his house, and all accompanied 
him. On Monday night, Nevember 24, 1572, he gave a 
deep sigh and said, "Now it is come." He was soon speech- 
less. His servant plea^led for one sign that he heard the 
words of peace (with God). Knox, collecting all his 
strength, lifted up his hand toward Heaven, and then fell on 
sleep. 




Martin Luther 



i 



MARTIN LUTHER 



( < /^^OME IN,*' said the very kindly voice of Ursula Cotta, 
V^^ the Shunamite of Eisenach, Germany. Her welcome 
words were addressed to a disconsolate youth who, singing in 
a clear treble from door to door to earn a pittance with which 
to buy a morsel for an evening meal, had already been re- 
pulsed from three homes, and was about to return to his lodg- 
ing with an empty stomach, and the prospect of having to quit 
school and return to work in the mines of Mansfeldt. He now 
gladly accepted the invitation to a tempting meal, delighted 
his hostess with the music of his charming voice and lute, and 
when in a few days he was asked by Ursula and her good hus- 
band, Conrad Cotta, to make his home with them, his anxie- 
ties were over. Ever afterward Martin Luther considered it 
a gracious Providence that thus opened the way before him. 
And shall not the hospitable Ursula receive her reward? 

Born in 1483 of austerely pious parents, Margaret and 
John Luther, early sent to school, where severe discipline was 
maintained by the old-fashioned method of vigorous flogging 
for minor offenses, trained to hard work in the mines and 
smelting furnaces with his industrious father, early compelled 
to earn his own way through school, he acquired a wholesome 
industry and hardihood of character which, combined with 
truthfulness, sobriety, and the fear of God, laid the foundation 
for future usefulness. 

He responded readily to the genial cheer of Cotta*s home, 

273 



274 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

became more light-hearted, developed his talents in music, and 
became very proficient in his studies. The liveliness of his 
imagination, strength of mind, and gifts of poetry and eloquence 
distinguished him. 

In 1501 he entered the university of Erfurth. His father 
required him to study law. He began each day with prayer, 
then went to church; afterward applied himself to his studies, 
losing not a moment in the whole course of the day. 

When he had been at the university two years, and was 
twenty years old, he discovered among many volumes in the 
library a Bible. It was a rare book, unknown in those times, 
and written in Latin. He had heard small portions read by 
the priest, but had no idea of its many books, volume, depth, 
unity, beauty, and system of truth. Thereafter he returned fre- 
quently to read it. In it lay hid the Reformation. 

That year he took his bachelor's degree. The Bible and 
serious thoughts engrossed his mind more than usual. At an- 
other time, in danger of bleeding 'to death from a serious 
wound, he cried, *'0 Mary, help me!'* 

He received his degree of M. A. in 1505. In the same 
year there came to his soul a great awakening. His intimate 
friend, Alexis, met with a sudden and horrible death. Luther 
himself barely escaped death from a bolt of lightning falling 
at his feet. With the terrors of death upon him, he vowed that 
if God delivered him he would abandon the world and devote 
himself entirely to God. 

He had now as great a thirst for holiness as he had for- 
merly for knowledge. But where will he find it? How shall 
he become holy ? He decided to give up his friends and earthly 
ambitions, to enter a monastery, and by pious works, fasting, 
afflicting his body by flagellations, coarse fare and a hard bed, 
to win the salvation of his soul. 



Martin Luther 275 

His father was deeply grieved and displeased with his son, 
and his friends were chagrined at his unalterable decision. 

The entrance of so distinguished a scholar to the monas- 
tery flattered the monks. They resolved to humble Martin by 
compelling him to carry the bag, begging bread for the con- 
vent, through the streets of Erfurth, where he was so well 
known. Also, he was required to sweep, ring the bell and per- 
form the most menial tasks. But he did it all willingly, hoping 
by good works to earn salvation and the favor of God! In 
order to deliver his age from the miserable superstitions under 
which it groaned, he must first feel all their intolerable weight. 

Naturally of very abstemious habits, he became more so in 
his vain search for holiness. For seven weeks he scarcely 
closed his eyes in sleep. A little bread and a small herring 
were often his only food. Even in later life he went as long 
as four days without eating or drinking. Yet his enemies have 
accused him of intemperance! 

*'I tortured myself almost to death,'* said he, **in order to 
procure peace for my troubled heart and agitated conscience; 
but surrounded with thick darkness, I found peace nowhere.** 
To no avail he went to confession each day. 

At that time, John Staupitz, vicar-general of the Augus- 
tine convents, was making his visitations. He was a good man 
who, after earnest seeking and vain endeavor, had discovered 
that true salvation was found in the merits of Jesus. The pale, 
earnest face of Martin attracted him. The kindly man gave 
special attention to him, told him that his own works were vain, 
and pointed him to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin 
of the world. Sweet consolation began to steal into his heart, 
and the Scriptures, instead of unmercifully condemning him, 
began to glow with a sweet radiance. "If there is an educa- 



276 Men and "Women of Deep Piety 

tion necessary for every man, there is a particular one for those 
who are destined to act upon their generation.** 

Staupitz loathed the vices and deceptions of the Romish 
church, but lacked the courage to boldly denounce them and 
teach a better way. But with prophetic vision he foresaw that 
Luther was a chosen instrument to flash the truth of salvation 
by faith into the thraldom of darkness. 

Moreover, Staupitz gave him a Bible, and urged upon him 
the study of the Scriptures. The soil of his heart had been 
ploughed deep by conviction and repentance. The good seed 
of the Word took deep root, and slowly but surely it would 
come to fruitage, and lead the humble inquirer into light and 
liberty. 

When ill, an aged monk visited him, and to his still rest- 
less conscience commended a simple faith in Jesus. Light 
sprung up in his soul, and he no longer depended on his own 
works for salvation. 

After two years in the cloister, he was ordained priest. 
In after years he shuddered to recall the words of the ordain- 
ing priest when conferring upon him the right to celebrate mass : 
"Receive the power of sacrificing for the quick and the dead.*' 
Said Luther, **If the earth did not then open and swallow us 
up, it was owing to the great patience and long-suffering of the 
Lord." 

He was relieved of the menial tasks of the convent, and 
made short preaching tours. Late in 1508 he was invited to 
become professor at the University of Wittemburg. Accord- 
ingly he removed to a cell in the Augustine Convent at Wittem- 
burg, and took up his new duties with delight. He was granted 
the degree of Bachelor of Divinity, and soon devoted all his 
time to Biblical theology. 

The Elector Frederick of Saxony became his warm friend, 



Martin Luther 277 

and, to the day of his death, the protector of Luther and the 
Reformation. 

In the retirement of his cell, devoting hours to the study of 
the Scriptures, the great truth that *'the just shall live by faith" 
became more deeply imprinted upon Luther's mind. 

At the urgent request of Staupitz, but very reluctantly, he 
began preaching at the church of the Augustines. Soon the lit- 
tle chapel could not hold the hearers who crowded to it. Ac- 
cordingly, he was called to preach in the large city church, and 
became its chaplain. His reputation extended far and wide. 
Other priests sought to amuse their hearers, rather than to con- 
vert them. The serious earnestness of Luther's discourses, the 
joy which the Gospel imparted to his own soul, the eloquence, 
the warmth, the authority and unction with which he addressed 
them, deeply impressed his hearers. 

About the year 1510 he was sent to Rome to represent 
seven monasteries of his order which were at variance with the 
vicar-general. While some true light of the Gospel had pene- 
trated his soul, yet he was thoroughly loyal to the Romish 
church. Full of the popular delusions, he had imagined Rome 
to be the abode of sanctity. Visiting monasteries in Italy, he 
beheld with astonishment the splendor of their apartments, the 
richness of their dress, the delicacy of their food, and the imt 
piety of many monks. As he came in sight of Rome he fell 
upon his knees, exclaiming, "Holy Rome, I salute thee!" 

He repeated mass several times at Rome, visited all the 
churches and chapels, believed all the falsehoods that were 
told him, performed all the holy practices that were required 
there, and wished that his father and mother were already dead, 
so that he might have the joy of delivering them from the fire« 
of purgatory by his masses, prayers, and so many other good 
works performed in the holy .city. 



278 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

He had found some light, but not all the darkness of Rom- 
ish superstitions were expelled. The discovery of the scandal- 
ous impiety of priests and prelates in Rome horrified his rev- 
erent soul. Said he, **No one can imagine what sins and in- 
famous actions were committed in Rome; they must be seen 
and heard to be believed.'* The veil was withdrawn, and Lu- 
ther saw the mockery concealed behind its vain superstitions. 

■**One day, among others, wishing to obtain an indulgence 
promised by the Pope to all who should ascend on their knees 
what is called Pilate's staircase, the Saxon monk was humbly 
creeping up those steps, which he was told had been miracu- 
lously transported from Jerusalem to Rome. But while he was 
performing this meritorious act he thought he heard a voice of 
thunder crying from the bottom of his heart, as at Wittemburg 
and Bologna, "The just shall live by faith!" These words, 
which twice before had struck him like the voice of an angel 
from God, resounded unceasingly and powerfully within him. 
He rises in amazement from the steps up which he was drag- 
ging his body; he shudders at himself; he is ashamed of seeing 
to what a depth superstition had plunged him, and flies far 
from the scene of his folly." 

In 1512 Luther was ordained Doctor of Divinity. His 
pledge to defend the Holy Scriptures was his call to the 
Reformation. The infallible authority of the Word of God 
was the primary and fundamental principle of the Reforma- 
tion. Rome says the Church is supreme. Protestantism says 
the Bible is supreme. From this time a new emancipation came 
to Luther, and step by step he became more bold, clear and 
fearless in proclaiming the truth. 

Public discussions were held, in which some cardinal truths 
were debated, much to the enlightenment of the people. On 



Martin Luther 279 

such occasions the reform principles were stated in these oi- 
terse statements as subjects for discussion. 

At that time a great agitation prevailed in Germany. The 
markets of indulgence were flourishing grandly. Tetzel, of 
sonorous voice, elegant dress, and arrogant air, was the trader 
in the souls of men. To the zeal of an inquisitor he added the 
skill of a mountebank. Cried he, *' Indulgences are the most 
precious and the most noble of God's gifts. This cross (point- 
ing to the red cross) has as much efficacy as the very cross 
of Jesus Christ. Come, and I will give you letters, all properly 
sealed, by which even the sins that you intend to commit may 
be pardoned. I would not change my privileges for those of 
St. Peter in heaven, for I have saved more souls by my indul- 
gences than the apostle by his sermons. There is no sin so 
great that an indulgence cannot remit. And now, by means 
of these letters of indulgence, you can once in your life, in every 
case except four, which are reserved for the apostolic see, ob- 
tain a plenary remission of all your penalties and all your sins ! ** 

"Priests, noble, merchant, wife, youth, maiden! Do you 
not hear your parents, and your other friends who are dead, 
and who cry from the bottom of the abyss: *We are suffering 
horrible torments ! A trifling alms would deliver us. You can 
give it, and you will not!* 

*'At the very moment that the money rattles at the bottom 
of the chest the soul escapes from purgatory, and flies, liberated, 
to Heaven.'* 

At the conclusion of his speech he would run enthusiastic- 
ally to the money chest, flinging into it a coin, that it might 
rattle loudly, crying, "Bring! Bring! Bring!** Thereupon 
the crowd thronged about the confessors, who regulated the 
price necessary to be paid according to the extent of the in- 
dulgence desired and the size of the pocket-book of the in- 



280 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

quirer. Much of the gold collected in the heavy chest was 
squandered by the collectors in taverns, gambling-houses and 
places of ill-fame. 

Generally Tetzel managed the superstitious crowd very 
well. Rarely did he meet a man enligtened enough or cour- 
ageous enough to resist him. 

*'The youthful Myconious was one of Tetzel's hearers. He 
felt an ardent desire to take advantage of this offer. *I am a 
poor sinner,* said he to the commisaries in Latin, 'and I have 
need of a gratuitous pardon.' 'Those alone can have part in 
Christ's merits who lend a helping hand to the church — that is 
to say, who give money,' replied the merchants. 'What is the 
meaning, then,' asked Myconious, 'of those promises of a free 
gift posted on the gates and walls of the churches?' 'Give at 
least a groat,' said Tetzel's people. 'I cannot.' 'Only six de- 
niers.' 'I am not worth so many.' The Dominicans began 
to fear that he came on purpose to entrap them. 'Listen, we 
will make you a present of the six deniers,' said they. The 
young man replied indignantly, 'I will have no bought indul- 
gences. If I desired to buy them I should only have to sell 
one of my school books. I desire a gratuitous pardon, and for 
the love of God alone. You will render an account to God 
for having allowed a soul to be lost for six deniers.' 'Who 
sent you to entrap us?' exclaimed the vendors. 'Nothing but 
the desire of receiving God's pardon could have made me ap- 
pear before such great gentlemen,' replied the young man, and 
withdrew. 

" 'I was very sad at being thus sent away unpitied. But I 
felt, however, a Comforter within me, who said that there 
was a God in Heaven who pardons repentant souls without 
money and without price, for the love of His Son, Jesus Christ. 
As I took leave of these folks, the Holy Spirit touched my 



Martin Luther 281 

heart. I burst into tears, and prayed to the Lord with anguish : 
"O God! since these men have refused to remit my sins, do 
Thou, Lord, have pity on me, and pardon them of Thy pure 
grace.'* I repaired to my chamber, I prayed to my crucifix, 
which was lying on my desk; I put it on a chair and fell down 
before it. I cannot describe to you what I experienced. I 
begged God to be a father to me, and to do with me whatever 
He pleased. I felt my nature changed, converted, transformed. 
What had delighted me before now became an object of dis- 
gust. To live with God, and to please Him, was my earnest, 
my sole desire.* ** 

He became an active Reformer. 

Some people who visited the confessional confessed to Lu- 
ther the vilest sins, but would not promise to reform. He remon- 
strated that he could not then give them hope of pardon. They 
then presented their indulgences. Luther was still a loyal 
papist at that time, but true to the light as it came. "Except 
ye repent ye shall all likewise perish,*' was his reply. 

Then to an agitated audience he denounced the whole sys- 
tem of selling indulgences for a price. 

In a dream, thrice repeated in the same night, the Elector 
Frederick of Saxony dreamed that the pen of a Saxon monk, 
writing in the chapel door at Wittemburg, reached as far as 
Rome, where it disturbed a lion, until he roared with all his 
might, his roaring being heard through all the Holy Empire. 
The same Saxon pen shook the triple crown upon the Pope's 
head. All the cardinals and princes ran to support it. The 
monk, being asked how he got that pen, replied that it belonged 
to a Bohemian goose (Huss) a hundred years old, and that 
the strength and pith of the pen was quite astonishing. The 
Elector was much impressed, and there being no Joseph or 



282 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Daniel to interpret it for him, he had his own interpretation of 
it, which fulfillment rapidly came to pass. 

Luther felt called upon as a teacher in the University, as 
pastor in Wittemburg, and as an honest inquirer of truth, to 
enlighten the deceived people, and to defend the papacy against 
the scandalous indulgence traffic. His exhortations and ser- 
mons had no effect upon Tetzel. He was drawing nearer the 
city, in all his arrogant pride and greed. 

According to an established custom, when one proposed to 
publicly debate a question of common interest, at noon, Octo- 
ber 31, 1517, the day preceding the festival of All-Saints, 
Luther posted upon the door of the church, to which a crowd 
of superstitious pilgrims was thronging, ninety-five theses or 
propositions against the doctrine of indulgences. He proposed 
to debate the subject on the following day with any who would 
publicly champion the other side of the subject. 

These theses we cannot transcribe in full here. Their terse 
statement of truth is indicated by the following extracts: 

*'The Pope cannot remit any condemnation, but only de- 
clare and confirm the remission of God, except in the cases 
that appertain to himself. If he does otherwise, the condemna- 
tion remains entirely the same.'* 

"The laws of ecclesiastical penance ought to be imposed 
solely upon the living, and have no regard to the dead." 

"Those who fancy themselves sure of salvation by indul- 
gences will go to perdition along with those who teach them so.*' 

"We should teach Christians that he who gives to the poor, 
or lends to the needy, does better than he who purchases an in- 
dulgence.'* 

The germs of the Reformation were contained in these 
theses. When he threw down the gauntlet at this time, Luther 
did not yet see the extent of the battle begun, nor did he yet 



Martin Luther 283 

comprehend that the doctrine of salvation by faith alone in the 
merits of Jesus Christ is diametrically opposed to the Romish 
system of doctrine and superstition, and would yet overthrow it. 
But the martial spirit of a true warrior is displayed in their bold 
statement, and a loyalty to truth as revealed in the Word of 
God, which will carry this herald of light into the thick of the 
fray, counting not his life dear to himself. 

In the most self-abasing and polite language, Luther also 
wrote to Albert, the Archbishop of Ventz, who had sanctioned 
the hawking of indulgences. He enclosed these theses, kindly 
asked consideration of them, and in frankness and humility ex- 
horted him to be true to his responsibility in putting an end to 
the unbecoming traffic. But to no avail. 

No one appeared at the church to attack Luther's theses. 
But they spread with the rapidity of lightning. A month had 
not elapsed before they were at Rome. "In a fortnight they 
were in every part of Germany, and in four weeks they had 
traversed nearly the whole of Christendom, as if the very 
angels had been their messengers, and had placed them before 
the eyes of all men. No one can believe the noise they made.** 
Many travelers to the Feast of All-Saints carried back home 
with them, instead of indulgences, the theses of the Wittem^ 
burg monk. Men conversed about them everywhere, in tav- 
erns, convents and universities. 

The theses had carried Gospel light to Myconious and 
many others. On the other hand, Luther had many attacks to 
endure. Reproaches and accusations were showered upon him. 
He had expected to see the leading authorities in the church 
unite with him. He had thought that the most distinguished 
scholars would stand with him. But after the first outburst 
of approbation they drew back, foreseeing somewhat how great 



284 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

and serious and dangerous a combat thus opened with Rome, 
whose authority the people had blindly obeyed for centuries. 

Moreover, it cost Luther dearly to make even so small a 
breach with the church which he had venerated from his in- 
fancy. He entertained most humble views of himself as a 
weak monk, opposing the majesty of the Pope, before whom 
kings and the whole earth trembled. If Luther had been led 
on by human passions or political ambitions, his courage would 
have sunk, but the travail of his soul proves that his work was 
inspired of God. 

Tetzel replied to Luther in a rather braggadocia way. Lu- 
ther, in his reply, was not wanting in courage. He styled his 
adversary's arguments as a house of burrs, his remarks as mere 
artificial flowers and dry leaves, his bitter invectives as the bray- 
ing of an ass, which did him more honor than approval from 
such a source. 

An idea of Tetzel's teaching may be gleaned from a few 
of his statements: 

**The Pope, by the greatness of his power, is above the 
whole universal church, and superior to the councils, and we 
should implicitly obey his decrees.** 

*'The judgment of the Pope cannot err in matters concern- 
ing the Christian faith.'* 

"We should rely emd repose more on the Pope's sentiments 
than on the opinions of all the learned, which are derived 
merely from Scripture.** 

"There are many things the church (Romish) regards as 
indisputable articles of universal truth, although they are not 
to be found in the canon of the Bible or in the writings of the 
ancient doctors.** 

Such arguments, combined with threats of excommunication 
and damnation, were his stock in trade, the usual weapons of a 



J 



Martin Luther 285 

church which hesitated not to shed the innocent blood of fifty 
millions who preferred to die for their holy faith than yield 
a slavish obedience to the dogmas of men. 

Luther was not a wild fanatic. As late as 1 5 1 8 he penned 
a humble and reverential letter to Pope Leo X, begging him 
to listen to him while he recounted the facts of the contest, and 
endeavoring to gain the head of the church to the cause of 
truth. But already Rome was forming weapons against him. 

A message citing him to appear at Rome was intrusted to 
a legate. Luther's friends, fearful to let him risk his life in 
that city "drunk with the blood of the saints and of the mar- 
tyrs of Jesus,'* interceded for him. The Pope, not even al- 
lowing time for the monk to reply, or appear, issued a brief, 
calling Luther to appear as a heretic before the papal legate, to 
recant his teachings, and condemning any prince or private 
person who would shelter him, or aid in spreading his doctrine. 

Commanded by the legate, Prierio, to appear before him at 
Augsburg, where a diet composed of the princes and electors 
of the Empire was in session to attend to affairs of state, Lu- 
ther prepared to obey, full of intrepid courage, even while his 
friends were full of apprehension. Said he, "What I have 
undretaken to defend I hope to maintain, with the help of 
Christ. As for violence, we must needs yield to that, but with- 
out abandoning the truth. I am like Jeremiah, a man of strife 
and contention; but the more their threats increase the more my 
joy is multiplied. They have already destroyed my honor and 
my reputation. One single thing remains; it is my wretched 
body. Let them take it. But as for my soul, they cannot 
take that. He who desires to proclaim the Word of Christ to 
the world must expect death at every moment.'* 

The courageous Reformer set out from Wittemburg on 
foot, without a safe-conduct, to answer the summons. On the 



286 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

way he preached at Weimar. At Augsburg, friends of the 
truth gathered about him, filled with apprehension as to his 
safety. Many urged him to preach publicly, but he showed 
his wisdom, moderation and respect for the Roman legate in 
holding his peace until his appearing before the latter. 

The cardinal, before whom he appeared at the appointed 
time, was Thomas de Vio, surnamed Cajetan, a man of great 
learning, loyalty to Rome, and morals purer than could be said 
of most of his rank. 

After prostrating himself before the legate, and arising 
when bidden, Luther addressed him with all due reverence and 
humility, acknowledging the theses and doctrines ascribed to 
him, and declaring himself ready to receive instruction. When 
informed that he must retract and cease to teach his heretical 
doctrines, he asked that he be informed wherein he had erred 
from the truth. Rome is accustomed to obedience without 
question of its wisdom or justice. It is a case of the blind lead- 
ing the blind. 

The questions in dispute were Luther's teaching against in- 
dulgences, and the doctrine of the necessity of faith, even when 
receivmg the sacrament. Luther's reply was: "As for indul- 
gences, if it can be shown that I am mistaken, I am ready to 
receive instruction. But as to the article of faith, if I made the 
slightest concession I should renounce Jesus Christ. I cannot 
— I will not yield on this point, and with God's grace I will 
never yield." 

De Vio: "You must retract that article this very day, or 
upon that article alone I shall reject and condemn your whole 
doctrine." 

Luther: "I have no will but the Lord's. Let Him do 
with me as seemeth good to Him. But if I had four hundred 



Martin Luther 287 

heads, I would rather lose them all than retract the testimony 
which I have borne to the holy Christian faith." 

De Vio: "I did not come here to dispute with you. Re- 
tract, or prepare to suffer the penalty you have deserved.'* 

Luther withdrew until another conference. The meeting 
of the second day was as unavailing as the first, except that 
De Vio raved, ranted, ridiculed, and assumed the air of a 
great superior, regarding with pity the vain delusion of an in- 
ferior. Luther, having no reasonable opportunity to speak, se- 
cured permission to render his answer in writing, believing this 
would give him a fairer hearing with the legate, and place his 
reply above the misrepresentations of enemies. 

Accordingly he carefully wrote out his doctrines and their 
Scriptures supporting them on the two disputed points, namely, 
(1 ) that indulgences, by reason of a treasure of merit of saints 
or of Jesus Christ, could not be granted by the Pope; (2) that 
no man can be justified before God if he has not faith. 

The legate scornfully threw the paper aside, saying he had 
wasted much ink in quoting Scriptures, and stormed as on the 
previous day, ever crying, "Recant! Recant! If you do not, 
I shall send you to Rome. I shall excommunicate you, with 
all your partisans. Think you that your protectors will stop 
me? The Pope's little finger is stronger than all the German 
princes put together." 

Luther: "Deign to forward to Pope Leo X, with my 
humble prayers, the answer which I have transmitted to you in 
writing." 

De Vio (in pride and anger) : "Retract, or return no 
more." 

Luther bowed and left the hall. He returned no more, for 
he had no other answer to render. He wrote to a friend: "I 
have neither hope nor confidence in the legate. I will not re- 



288 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

tract a syllable. I will publish the reply I gave him, in order 
that, if he should proceed to violence, he may be covered with 
shame in all Christendom.*' 

He respectfully waited four days in Augsburg, to do the 
legate's pleasure. His waiting being useless, and being a 
poor man, and his time valuable, he notified the legate of his 
intended departure. (The notice was not delivered until after 
his departure, his friends fearing greatly for his safety.) He 
left before daybreak. Also an appeal, drawn up in proper 
form before a notary and witnesses, was posted upon the 
Cathedral door, stating that he, Martin Luther, appealed 
from the Pope, ill-informed, to the Pope, better informed. 

The storm clouds were darkening. Luther reached Wit- 
temburg safely, but not knowdng when the bolt of the Pope's 
vvTath would fall, he had thoughts of leaving Germany, that 
he might have liberty to preach and write his convictions. 

Spalatin, the Elector Frederick's chaplain; Staupitz, the 
vicar-general of the Augustines, and Phillip Melancthon were 
Luther's staunch friends. The latter was a young man of 
much learning and sound judgment. "We cannot too much 
admire the goodness and \visdom of God in bringing together 
two men so different, and yet so necessary to each other. Lu- 
ther possessed warmth, vigour and strength; Melancthon, 
clearness, discretion and mildness. Luther gave energy to 
Melancthon, Melancthon moderated Luther. Melancthon 
found in Luther a kindness of disposition, a strength of mind, 
a courage, a discretion, that he had never found till then in 
any man. They were friends tiil death." 

Another papal legate, Militz, arrived from Rome, armed 
with seventy briefs, directed against Luther and the Reforma- 
tion. He was surprised to find public sentiment so much in 
support of Luther. For every one who was favorable to the 



Martin Luther 289 

Pope, he found three espousing Luther's cause. Not only 
was the Reformation gaining ground all over Germany, but 
its light was spreading to all surrounding countries. 

Luther studied the rise, progress and usurpations of the 
papacy, surprised at his discoveries. In 1 520 he published 
An Appeal on the Reformation of Christianit}^, which was the 
signal for his complete rapture with the papacy. All hope of 
reconciliation was gone. 

"It is a horrible thing to behold the man who styles him- 
self the Christ's vice-gerent displaying a magnificence that no 
emperor can equal. (The Pope's personal income is $1,400, 
000 annually.) He is (say they) the lord of the world! 
But Christ, whose vicar he boasts of being, has said, 'My 
kingdom is not of this world.' Can the dominions of a vicar 
extend beyond those of his superior?" 

As to celibacy of the priests, he wrote in the same treatise: 
"How many priests do we not find burdened with women, and 
children, and remorse, and yet no one comes to their aid. I 
assert that, according to the appointment of Christ and His 
apostles, each city should have a pastor or bishop, and that 
this pastor may have a wife, as St. Paul writes to Timothy: 
*A bishop must be the husband of one wife,' and as still prac- 
tised in the Greek church. But the devil has persuaded the 
Pope, as the same apostle says to Timothy (I Timothy 4: 1 
to 3), to forbid the clergy to marry. Hence have proceeded 
miseries that we cannot mention all. How can we save so 
many pastors, in whom we have no fault to find except that 
they live with a woman to whom they would, with all thei 
heart, be legitimately married? Let them take this woman as 
their lawful wife, and let them live virtuously with her, not 
troubling themselves whether the Pope is pleased or not. The 



290 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

salvation of your soul is of greater consequence to you than 
tyrannical laws that do not emanate from the Lord." 

**I can very well imagine that I have pitched my song too 
high, proposed many things that will seem impossible. Bu*^ 
what can I do? Let the world be offended with me rather 
than God. They can but take away my life." 

This exhortation soon reached all the German nobility. 
For clearness of understanding, for energy and enthusiasm, 
and for lofty reasoning it could not be equaled. 

Aroused by the reports of Militz, Eck and De Vio, the 
Pope issued his famous bull, giving Luther sixty days to re- 
tract, commanding him to cease preaching, writing or teaching 
his heretical doctrines, and to commit his works to the flames. 
After maledictions, interdicts, and excommunications against 
him and his partisans, he ordered that he be seized and brought 
to Rome. 

Militz, who labored vainly to persuade Luther to recant, 
urged him to write to the Pope, assuring him that he had no 
designs against the pontiff's life. As such designs were far 
from Luther's mind, and he labored in prayer that he might 
preserve a right spirit against his adversaries, Luther acqui- 
esced. Conflict had developed his courageous soul. He con- 
fidently expected that sooner or later he might lose his life for 
the cause of truth. So flinging all fear to the wind, he wrote 
humbly, respectfully, but plainly and faithfully, to the pon- 
tiff. We give brief extracts to show the spirit of the mis- 
sive. 

"To the Most holy Father in God, Leo X, Pope at 
Rome, be all health in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen. 

**From the midst of the violent battle which for three years 
I have been fighting against dissolute men, I cannot hinder my- 
self from sometimes looking towards you, O Leo, most holy 



Martin Luther 291 

Father in God! And although the madness of your impious 
flatterers has constrained me to appeal from your judgment 
to a future council, my heart has never been alienated from 
your holiness, and I have never ceased praying constantly, and 
with deep groaning, for your prosperity, and for that of your 
pontificate. 

"It is true, I have attacked certain anti-Christian doctrines, 
and have inflicted a deep wound upon my adversaries, because 
of their impiety. I do not repent of this, for I have the ex- 
ample of Christ before me. What is the use of salt if it hath 
lost its pungency, or of the edge of the sword, if it cuts not? 
I have done but one thing — upheld the Word of God. I am 
ready to submit to you in everything; but as for this Word, I 
will not — I Ccinnot, abandon it. 

"It is true, I have attacked the court of Rome; but neither 
you or any man on earth can deny that it is more corrupt 
than Sodom and Gomorrah, and that the impiety prevailing 
there is past all hope of cure. 

"You are aware that Rome, for many years past, has 
inundated the world with all that could destroy both body and 
soul. The Church of Rome, once the foremost in sanctity, 
is become the most licentious den of robbers, the most shame- 
less of all brothels, the kingdom of sin, of death, and of hell, 
which Anti-Christ himself, if he were to appear, could not in- 
crease in wickedness. 

! "And yet, O Leo, you sit like a lamb in the midst of 
wolves. Perhaps there are three or four cardinals who com- 
bine learning and virtue. But what are they against so great 
a number? You would all die of poison before being able to 
make trial of any remedy. The fate of the court of Rome is 
decreed; God's wrath is upon it, and will consume it. It hates 
good advice, dreads reform, will not mitigate the fury of its 



292 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

impiety, and thus deserves that men should speak of this city 
as of its mother: "We would have healed Babylon, but she 
is not healed: forsake her." 

**I have always regretted that you, who are worthy of 
better times, should have been raised to the pontificate in such 
days as these. Rome merits you not. She deserves to have 
Satan himself for her king. So true it is that he reigns, more 
than you, in that Babylon. O Leo, Leo, you are the most 
unhappy of men, and you sit on the most dangerous of thrones! 
I tell you the truth because I mean you well. 

*'0 Leo! Listen not to those flattering sirens who would 
persuade you that you are not a mere man, but a demi-god, 
and can command and require whatever you please. You are 
the servant of servants, and the place where you are seated is 
the most dangerous and miserable of all. 

*'That I m.ay not appear empty-handed before your holi- 
ness, I present you a small book which I have dedicated to 
you, and which will inform you of the subjects on which I 
should be engaged, if your parasites permitted me. I am poor, 
and have nothing else to offer you; besides, have you need of 
any other than spiritual gifts? I commend myself to your 
holiness, whom may the Lord Jesus preserve forever! Amen!" 

The little book was his discourse on Christian Liberty. 

In some parts of the Empire the Pope's bull against Lu- 
ther was posted freely. In others, the legate, John Eck, was 
ill-received, even threatened, and he escaped by night. Ger- 
many waited to see if the Reformer would stand firm. To re- 
lieve their mind of any suspense, Luther published a terrible 
discharge of artillery, a treatise, ''Against the Bull of Anti- 
Chrisi.'' 

Luther's works had been burned by papal representatives 
in many places. Luther replied by heading a public pro- 



Martin Luther 293 

cession, which erected a scaffold, set fire to it, eind burned the 
papal Canon Law, the Decretals, the papal Extravagants, and 
the Pope's bull. War was declared with energy as he flung 
them to the flames, saying, "Since thou hast vexed the Holy 
One, may everlasting fire vex and consume thee." 

"He is quite alone. Men of power persecute him," said 
some. Luther replied: "Is it not clear, according to Scrip- 
ture, that the persecutors are generally wrong, and the perse- 
cuted right; that the majority has ever been on the side of 
falsehood, and the minority with truth? Truth has in every 
age caused an outcry. 

"Moses was alone at the departure from Egypt; Elijah 
was alone in the reign of King Ahab; Isaiah alone in Jerusa- 
lem; Ezekiel alone in Babylon. God never selected as a 
prophet either the high-priest or any other great personage, 
but ordinarily he chose low and despised men, once even the 
shepherd Amos. In every age, the saints have had to reprove 
the great, kings, princes, priests, and wise men, at the peril of 
their lives. And was it not the same in the New Testament? 
Ambrose was alone in his time; after him Jerome was alone; 
later still, Augustine was alone. I do not say that I am a 
prophet; but I say that they ought to fear, precisely because 
I am alone and that they are many. I am sure of this, that 
the Word of God is with me, and that it is not with them." 

Maximilian had died, and Charles V was crowned Em- 
peror of Germany. He and most of the princes of the Empire 
were subservient to the Pope, though many of them could not 
help admiring Luther's courage, and admit that he spoke the 
truth. Rome was demanding the life of the reformer, and 
they were too timid, servile, and devoid of God's grace to 
stand unflinchingly for the cause of truth. Only Frederick, 
the oldest and wisest of the princes, as well as the most pious. 



294 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

was persuaded that Luther was right. Yet ought he to take 
a position contrary to the young emperor, the princes, and the 
Pope himself? He did not yet feel ready to break alliance 
with the papacy. Luther resided in his dominions, and to him 
the elector showed many favors, and extended his friendship 
and confidence. When hard pressed to surrender Luther to 
the papal vengeance, he refused consent. Though he did not 
feel called upon to propagate the truth far and wide, his kind- 
liness and forbearance gave opportunity for the prophets of 
God to scatter the light. 

However, Luther did not lean upon the arm of flesh. He 
said: "If the Gospel was of a nature to be propagated or 
maintained by the powers of this world, God would not have 
intrusted it to fishermen. It belongs not to the princes and pon- 
tiffs of this age to defend the Word of God. They have 
enough to do to shelter themselves from the judgments of the 
Lord and his Anointed. If I speak, it is in order that they 
may attain a knowledge of the Divine Word, and that by it 
they may be saved." 

The elector came to the conclusion that he would not give 
way to Rome. He will not stain his hands as did Pilate. 

A mighty revolution, of which God Himself was the au- 
thor, threatened to overthrow the Roman hierarchy. 

The first assembly of the empire over which the new em- 
peror presided was a solemn diet, convoked to meet at Worms 
in January, 152L Never before had so many princes met 
together in diet. Electors, dukes archbishops, landgraves, 
margraves, counts, bishops, barons, lords, deputies of the 
towns, and ambassadors of the kings of Christendom, with 
their brilliant trains, thronged to Worms. 

Many were the intrigues of papal nuncios, Spaniards and 



Martin Luther 295 

Belgians, as well as princes, in endeavor to influence the pale 
young emperor, hardly twenty years of age. 

He was between two fires. He desired neither to dis- 
please the Pope or the Elector Frederick, concerning Luther, 
which was one of the questions agitating all minds, and requir- 
ing some settlement at this time. 

At the same time Rome issued a new bull (a very appro- 
priate name for such a decree), excommunicating the Re- 
former and all his adherents, and sent plenty of gold for her 
representatives to carry on their bad business. Priests every- 
where were to publish the decrees from their pulpits, lighted 
tapers were dashed to the ground and extinguished, bells rung, 
aid anathemas pronounced. 

The emperor decided that Luther should be summoned to 
meet the diet, but without a safe-conduct. This the elector 
and his friends would not consent to, knowing the treachery 
of Rome. Accordingly the princes, through whose dominions 
Luther would have to journey, signed a safe-conduct, assuring 
their protection and his safety. 

It was God's will that this light should be set upon a hill, 
giving the truth not only to men of low estate, but permitting 
the unadulterated Gospel to penetrate into mansion and palace. 

Accompanied by worthy friends — Jonas, Schurff and 
Amsdorf — Luther proceeded to Worms. His adherents all 
along the way showed their admiration and solicitation for his 
safety. Many warned him not to enter Worms, for papal 
adherents were saying that the safe-conduct of a heretic ought 
not be respected. Even Spalatin, chaplain of the Elector 
Frederick, sent messengers to warn him. But Luther, undis- 
mayed, turned his eyes upon the messenger and said: "Go 
and tell your master that, even should there be as many devils 
in Worms as tiles on the house-tops, still I would enter it." 



296 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Several young nobles, knights and others, totaling about 
one hundred, rode out to meet him. His arrival was an- 
nounced by trumpets, and two thousand people accompanied 
him through the streets to his hotel. Of course, many were 
moved by mere curiosity to see this illustrious man of God 
who had dared to defy the Pope. 

Some urged King Charles to get rid of the Reformer, but 
he kept his pledge of safety to him. 

The next day, accompanied by the imperial herald and 
the marshal of the empire, Luther was escorted to the diet. 
The crowd was so dense that progress was impossible, and 
the marshal commanded private homes to be opened, that he 
might conduct the man of God through yards and houses to 
other streets. Roofs, windows, buildings, streets swarmed 
with spectators. It is said that in the great building where 
the diet sat in session, five thousand crowded into outer halls 
and corridors and ante-chambers. 

It looked as if the devil had outwitted himself, for this 
surely was the greatest possible advertisement of the resur- 
rected truths of Scripture. 

Luther was brought before the most imposing assembly ; 
the Emperor Charles V, whose domain extended over the 
greater part of the old and new world; his brother, the arch- 
duke Ferdinand; six electors of the empire; twenty- four dukes; 
eight margraves; thirty arch-bishops, bishops and abbots; 
seven ambassadors; the deputies from ten free cities; princes 
and counts; in all, two hundred and four persons. 

The sight seemed for a moment to dazzle and intimidate 
the Reformer. All eyes were fixed upon him. After a sol- 
emn silence, the chancellor of the Arch-bishop of Treves, John 
ab Eck, rose and said clearly, first in Latin, then in German: 
"Martin Luther, his sacred and invincible imperial majesty 



Martin Luther 297 

has cited you before his throne to require you to answer two 
questions: First, Do you acknowledge these books to have 
•been written by you?" (pointing to about twenty volumes 
placed upon a table). "Secondly, Are you prepared to re- 
tract these books and their contents?" 

His counsel exclaimed, "Let the titles of the books be 
named." 

The titles were read. Some of them were devotional 
books, having nothing to do with the controversy. 

Luther replied in Latin, then in German: "Most gracious 
Emperor! Gracious princes and lords! His imperial majesty 
has asked me two questions: 

"As to the first, I acknowledge as mine the books that 
have just been named. I cannot deny them. 

"As to the second, seeing that it is a question which con- 
cerns faith and the salvation of souls, and in which the Word 
of God, the greatest and most precious treasure either in 
Heaven or earth, is interested, I should act imprudently were 
I to reply without reflection. I might affirm less than the circum- 
stance demands, or more than truth requires, and so sin against 
this saying of Christ: 'Whosoever shall deny me before men>, 
him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. *" 
For this reason I entreat your imperial majesty, with all hu- 
mility, to allow me time, that I may answer without offending 
against the Word of God." 

This calmness was worthy of the Reformer and his cause. 
Yet the partisans of Rome began to hope that Luther was 
dismayed and fearful. Not so. He wished to reply worthily, 
and without the least suspicion of rashness or passion. 

After counselling with his ministers, the emperor granted 
the request. 

The next morning the face of God seemed hidden from 



298 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Luther. His soul was tempest-tossed. But a glimpse of the 
soul life is given in his humble intercession. "O Almighty 
God! How terrible is this world! Behold, it openeth its- 
mouth to swallow me up. How weak is the flesh, and Satan 
how strong! * * * O God, do Thou help me against all 
the wisdom of the world! Do this, for this is not my work, 
but Thine. I have nothing to do here, nothing to contend 
for with these great ones of the world! But the cause is 
Thine, * * * and it is a righteous and eternal one. O Lord, 
help me! Faithful and unchangeable God! In no man do 
I place my trust. It would be vain! All that is of man is 
uncertain. O God, my God, hearest Thou me not? My 
God, art Thou dead? No! Thou canst not die! Thou 
hidest Thyself only! Thou hast chosen me for this work. 
I know it well! Act, then, O God! Stand at my side, for 
the sake of Thy well-beloved Jesus Christ, who is my defense, 
my shield, and my strong tower. 

"I am ready to lay down my life for Thy truth, patient 
as a lamb. * * * Though my body, which is still the work 
of Thy hands, be slain, reduced to ashes, my soul is Thine! 
Yes, Thy Word is my assurance of it. My soul belongs to 
Thee! It shall abide forever v"*^ Thee. Amen. O God, 
help me! Amen.'* 

In the secret place, strength and courage were imparted to 
the humble and despised man. Peace of mind came, and he 
prepared his reply. 

Again he was escorted to the hall, where for two long 
hours he was compelled to stand among the swaying throng, 
waiting the diet's pleasure t'^ '^ all him in. A trying ordeal 
for an ordinary man. 

With due ceremony, the questions of the previous day 
were again asked of the Reformer in the august assembly. 



Martin Luther 299 

After proper introduction, Luther replied that he was the 
author of the books namf"^- He then alluded to the general 
subjects of his writings, their reasonableness, and the fact that 
all honest men admitted that the grievances against Rome were 
too true. 

**I frankly admit that I may have attacked them with more 
acrimony than is becoming my ecclesiastical profession. I do 
not consider myself a saint, but I cannot disavow these writ- 
ings, for by so doing I should sanction the impiety of my ad- 
versaries, and they would seize the opportunity of oppressing 
the people of God with still greater cruelty. 

"Yet I am a mere man, and not God. I shall, therefore, 
defend myself as Christ did. *If I have spoken evil, bear 
witness of the evil.' How much more should I, who am but 
dust and ashes, desire every man to state his objections to my 
doctrine ! 

*'For this reason * * * I conjure you to prove, from the 
writings of the apostles and prophets, that I have erred. As 
soon as I am convinced of this, I will retract every error, and 
be the first to lay hold of my books and cast them into the 
fire. 

Luther had spoken in German with great modesty, but 
with warmth and firmness. Commanded to repeat it in Latin, 
he did so with equal energy. 

The Chancellor of Treves, orator of the diet, said indig- 
nantly: "You have not answered the question put to you. 
You are not summoned here to call in question the decisions 
of the councils. You are required to give a clear and precise 
answer. Will you, or will you not retract?" 

Luther replied without hesitation: "Since your most se- 
rene majesty and your high mightinesses require from me a 
clear, simple and precise answer, I will give you one, and it is 



300 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

this: */ cannot and I mil not retract, for it is unsafe for a 
Christian to speak against his conscience. Here I stand, I can 
do no other. May Cod help me! Amen.' " 

Many found it difficult to conceal their admiration. Some 
few ridiculed a greatness of soul which they could not appre- 
ciate. 

Said the chancellor: "If you do not retract, the emperor 
will consult what course to adopt against an incorrigible 
heretic." 

Luther: "May God be my helper, for I can retract 
nothing." 

Luther then withdrew, and the princes deliberated. Called 
in again, he was asked if he would retract a portion. 

"I have no other reply to make than that which I have 
already made," calmly answered the man of God. 

The Lord had sustained His servant, and gave him a wis- 
dom which could not be gainsayed. 

Luther was commanded to return home, and forbidden to 
disturb the public peace. We are reminded that the apostles 
were also chastised, and forbidden to preach any more in the 
name of Jesus. Their reply had been, "We ought to obey 
God rather than men." 

On the lonely road, near the forest of Thuringia, Luther 
was seized by masked men, and borne away. For months 
even his friends knew not what had become of him. Rome 
rejoiced, and godly men sorrowed. But finally, by the writ- 
ings published from his pen, it was known that he was still 
alive, and undaunted. 

Charles had signed his condemnation, and forbade any- 
one to give him shelter, and offered reward for his captivity 
and surrender. 

But Luther's friends had anticipated treachery, captured 



Martin Luther 301 

him, and concealed him in the Wartburg Castle, where he was 
disguised as Knight George. The abduction had been con- 
ducted so mysteriously that even Frederick did not for a long 
time know the fate of the Reformer. 

Like Moses in the desert, Paul in Arabia, Bunyan in Bed- 
ford jail, this seclusion, this absence of excitement, was 
wholesome for Luther. It gave him time to meditate and pray, 
to study and to write, and, more than all productions of his 
pen, to translate the Bible into the German tongue, of which 
ha was a master. The Word of God had been a sealed book 
to the common people, being forbidden them by the papacy, 
and written in a strange language. Luther's hope of putting 
it in reach of all was realized. His greatest fault, in Rome's 
estimation, was valuing the Bible above the decrees of Pope 
or council. 

After ten months' concealment, Luther came again to Wit- 
temburg, quelling a rising fanaticism among some too zealous 
reformers. 

He renounced his monastic vows. Romanism did not 
cease to threaten and to hate him. Some suffered martyrdom 
for the faith, but it pleased God to spare Luther, though he 
lived with his life on the altar of sacrifice. 

In June, 1525, Luther married Catharine Bora, a virtu- 
ous woman who had received the evangelical teachings, and, 
with eight others, had left a nunnery. For this act papists re- 
proached him vilely, while all over the country were licentious 
priests living in open adultery, while under the vows of celi- 
bacy. Luther had lived a pure life, and now made a loyal, 
afFectionate husband, home-maker and father. After all the 
toils he endured, it is pleasant to know that he had the com- 
fort of a noble, true helpmeet after his forty-second year. His 
strong, tender love of his children was most beautiful. 



302 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Even good men have their weaknesses. Luther had his. 
He was of a very ardent temperament, and sometimes spoke 
too rashly or immoderately. His disagreement with Zwingle 
concerning the doctrine of the Lord's Supper, and his seem- 
ing inability to abandon his own viewpoint, at least long 
enough to look at it impartially from the standpoint of an- 
other, proves again that even godly people sometimes err. 

The great Reformer died at Eisleben, the place of his 
birth, February 18, 1548. He had gone thither with his 
sons to visit, preaching four times. He felt ill, but came 
downstairs, saying, "There is no pleasure in being alone. 
Nothing frightens the devil so much as when two or three 
Christians get together and sing, and are happy in the Lord." 
Retiring, he awoke in the cold of death. "It is warm, Mas- 
ter." "Then this cold is death. How ill I am. I shall die 
in this house where I was born." 

Some of the German states espoused the cause of the 
Reformation, others steadily opposed it. Internal wars were 
the result. 

"Such terrible paths had the German people to tread 
towards national freedom and unity. Ten generations of Ger^ 
mans had to bear the curse brought upon them, not by the 
Reformation, but by those who opposed it; not by Luther, 
nor even by Munzer and his wild associates, but by the Em- 
peror Charles V, and others of the higher powers who sided 
with him when he sold the interests of Germany, and signed 
the treaty with the Pope, on that fatal 8th of May, 1521, at 
the Diet of Worms." 

The Gospel liberty which we enjoy has been purchased by 
bloody sacrifice. Let us then be true to the faith of our 
fathers, earnestly contending for "the faith once delivered to 
the saints." 



II 



DAVID LIVINGSTONE. THE "PATHFINDER" 



GATHERED around their hearth-fire in their humble 
peasant home in Blantyre, Scotland, the Livingstone 
bairns listened for the fortieth time to their grandfather's story 
of the bravery of his sire at Culloden. Their eyes glowed 
with interest, their hearts warmed with enthusiasm, and a like 
passion to be brave, daring adventuresome, and true to the 
right was born in their young breasts. 

Honesty, piety, industry, hardihood and brave persever- 
ance were developed by the home life of the happy group. 
When David was at the tender age of ten, he began to lift the 
family burden by working from six in the morning until eight 
at night in the Blantyre cotton mill. His work was to watch 
the spinning thread, seize the ends of broken threads and tie 
them together. When he was nineteen he became a spinner, 
receiving larger wages. 

But his busy brain was also spinning plans and ambitions 
for the future. With his book propped up on the spinning 
jenny, he used chance opportunities to gather information and 
study the languages and sciences. He also attended night 
school from eight to ten o'clock, sitting up until twelve to 
study if his mother did not arouse and send him off to bed. 
Science, history and travel, but not novels, were devoured 
eagerly. With a part of his first earnings in the mill he had 
bought a Latin grammar. 

"Looking back now on that life of toil, I cannot but be 

303 



304 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

thankful that it formed such a material part of my early edu- 
cation, and, were it possible, I should like to begin life over 
again in the same lowly style, and to pass through the same 
hardy training. 

"Time and travel have not effaced the feelings of re- 
spect I imbibed for the humble inhabitants of my native vil- 
lage. For morality, honesty and intelligence, they were, in 
general, good specimens of the Scottish poor," 

Somewhere along in his teens, there came to him a spiritual 
awakening. He had no difficulty in believing in the atone- 
ment and exercising saving faith in the Lord. "The change 
was like what may be supposed to take place were it possible 
to cure a case of color blindness. The perfect freeness with 
which the pardon of all our guilt is offered in God's Book 
drew forth feelings of affectionate love to Him who bought 
us with His blood, ajid a sense of deep obligation to Him for 
His mercy has influenced my conduct ever since. 

"In the glow of love which Christianity inspires, I soon 
resolved to devote my life to the alleviation of human misery. 
Turning this idea over in my mind, I felt that, to be a pioneer 
of Christianity in China, might lead to the material benefit 
of some portions of that immense empire, and therefore set 
myself to obtain a medical education, in order to be qualified 
for that enterprise." 

His parents were well pleased with his design. His 
mother's face glowed with pride. He was permitted to save 
his money earned in the summer that he might attend medical 
and Greek classes, and divinity lectures by Dr. Wardlow, in 
the winter, in Glasgow. Alone for the first time in the metrop- 
olis, he felt very lonesome, but said, "I must put a stout heart 
to a stey brae" (a stiff hill). 

He finished his course, and was admitted a Licentiate of 



David Livingston 305 

Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons. "It was with unfeigned 
delight I became a member of a profession which is pre-^ 
eminently devoted to practical benevolence, and which with 
unwearied energy pursues from age to age its endeavors to les- 
sen human woe." 

He was now qualified to go out as a medical missionary, 
but the opium war was then on in China, and it was not advis- 
able to go there. So he offered his services to the London Mis- 
sionary Society. After a more extended theological training, 
he embarked for Africa November 14, 1840, his father hav- 
ing walked from Blantyre to Glasgow in the early gray of the 
morning with him to bid him God-speed and a very loving 
farewell. 

After three months' voyage he reached Cape Town. 
Thence in a wagon, drawn by many oxen, over the mountains 
and down in the jungle paths, he made a journey of seven 
hundred miles to Kuruman, on the Congo, the headquarters of 
Robert Moffat. But here he would not tarry, as a less brave 
soul would be glad to do. He wished to go at least two 
hundred and fifty miles further than any missionary had yet 
gone. Accordingly he traveled to the People of the Croco- 
dile, or Bakwena, as they were called. Here he learned 
their language perfectly, and all about their lives in their huts. 
He taught them to build canals for watering their gardens, and 
improvements in building, as well as the Gospel of the king- 
dom. Then he traveled on to the Bakaa, a fierce tribe which 
murdered traders. But fearlessly the man of God went among 
them, eating and sleeping with them, healing their sick and 
winning them to better lives. 

As he traveled along the edge of the Kalahari desert, his 
black companions whispered, **He is not strong; he is quite 
slim, and only looks stout because he puts himself into those 



306 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

bags. He will soon give out." But they were mistaken. The 
white man who had scouted over the hills of Scotland, hunt- 
ing botanical and geological specimens, traveling sixty miles 
on foot one day, was more than a match for the natives, who 
marveled and begged to be allowed to go more slowly. 

He then made a journey of four-hundred miles, traveling 
for the first time on the back of a great ox, with loose skin 
and great horns, which threatened the rider quite frequently. 
On this trip he broke his finger in a fall, and re-broke it in 
killing a lion which threatened their ceunp one night. His 
sacrifices won the love of the natives. 

He then went to live with the Bakhatla, or People of the 
Monkey, at Mabotsa, a fortnight's journey from Kuruman. 
The night was made terrible by the roar of lions, which inhab- 
ited the densely wooded hills encircling the little village. They 
attacked the sheep and cattle in open daylight. The natives 
thought the lions bewitched, but, inspired by Livingstone, they 
surrounded a hill which was the favorite haunt of the animals. 
Their shots angered the lions. Three of them brake through 
the ring of men. The frightened men started to go home. 
Livingstone went around the end of the hill, and saw one lion 
sitting on a rock. He fired two barrels into him. While he 
wa^ ranmiing another bullet he heard a shout. Turning, he 
saw the lion springing upon him. The furious beast seized 
him by the shoulder, shaking him as a cat would a mouse. 
Leaving him dazed, he turned upon Mebalwe, who fired upon 
him but missed him. After biting the native in the thigh he at- 
tacked another, but just then the bullets he had received took 
effect and he fell down dead. This death of their leader so 
frightened the lions that they left the neighborhood. 

Livingstone's shoulder was crushed, and eleven tooth- 



David Livingston 307 

marks left on his arm. Thereafter it was almost helpless, being 
raised with difficulty and pain. 

While his arm was healing, Livingstone went to Kuruman, 
and on beyond it, to meet Robert Moffat, who was returning 
from England to resume his work in the dark continent. At 
that time he met Mary, the daughter of the great pioneer mis- 
sionary, Robert Moffat, to whom he was married soon after. 
She was as devoted as he was to the salvation of the heathen, 
teaching the natives, laboring among them while her husband 
was absent months at a time, never complaining or pining for 
better things. She was a true daughter of her noble, self- 
sacrificing parents. 

Livingstone built his own house, as the natives were so 
used to building round huts that they did not know how to lay 
a straight wall. Said he, *'My wife is maid of all work and 
I am Jack of all trades.'* They had to churn their own but- 
ter in a jar, mould their own candles, and make their own 
soap with the ash of plants, for the nearest store was hundreds 
of miles away. 

At Mabotsa Mrs. Livingstone had one hundred children 
in her school. After laboring in his garden and assisting the 
natives in various ways, during the day, after the milking time 
in the evening, Livingstone preached to the men, women and 
children who nightly came to the services. His medical train- 
ing was always very useful, both to his own family and the 
needy heathen, who often made long journeys to receive the 
white man's medicine. 

Another missionary was sent to Mabotsa, and so Living- 
stone resigned his house to them, and with Mrs. Livingstone as 
"Queen of the Wagon", drawn by many oxen, he started out 
to find a new location. They came to Chonuane, a Bakwana 
village, of which Sechele was chief. He welcomed the mis- 



308 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

sionaries and the Gospel, and here they built another house. 
The little white baby born at this place was a great curiosity, 
indeed, so different from the chocolate babies of the natives, 
and fairer than its parents, who were burned brown by the 
tropical sun. Many times Livingstone bared his breast as evi- 
dence that he was a white man, and not an Arab or Portu- 
guese slave-trader. 

Livingstone and the whole tribe moved to Kolobeng, by 
the side of a river, that they might have a supply of water dur- 
ing the long dry season. The country there was full of wild 
beasts. The missionary, standing in his own front door, shot 
a rhinoceros and a buffalo. 

Livingstone left his wife and child, and with two hunters 
and some natives, started on his first journey across the desert, 
seeking a lake which no white man had ever viewed. They 
traveled midst great herds of swift antelopes, flocks of ostriches, 
roaring lions, howling jackals, crying hyenas, chattering mon- 
keys, cackling guinea-fowls, and huge hissing snakes. Croco- 
diles, hippopotami and water snakes inhabited the waters. The 
elephant and rhinoceros, the zebra and giraffe, were encoun- 
tered. 

Added to these dangers in all the travels of the great path- 
finder was the bitter hostility of many tribes, because they 
feared the slave-driver. Often were droves of slaves met, with 
yokes upon their necks, tied together by their hands, driven mer- 
cilessly on, starving and weary, many falling by the way their 
bones bleaching in the sun, their villages aflame, their flocks 
plundered. Livingstone burned with desire to kill the slave 
trade. He believed that if he could succeed in opening a path 
through the heart of Africa to the sea, missionaries might pene- 
trate the continent, and government authorities suppress the 
horrible trade. 



David Livingstone 309 

One hostile tribe of the desert was the little Bushmen. 
They threatened the travelers with their poisoned arrows. But 
Livingstone's plan was not to fire upon them, but by being 
calm, friendly and fearless, to disarm them of their fears, and 
God surely protected him and gave him wisdom. After a 
little time, he usually succeeded in trading beads or cloth for 
provisions, or if he possessed nothing to trade God opened their 
hearts to provide his necessities, and he returned their kindness 
by doctoring their sick, and teaching the Gospel, by using his 
magic lantern pictures of Gospel scenes. Everywhere his mem- 
ory was honored, and those poor, benighted heathen looked 
longingly for his return when he traveled on. Even the slave- 
driver gained access to tribes by saying, "The missionary is 
our father". Then he treacherously carried them off to the 
slave m-arket at Zanzibar or some coast town. 

Reaching the Zouga River, he traveled much by canoe, 
which was much pleasanter than going on foot or in the lum- 
bering ox-cart, cutting their way often. In August, 1 849, he 
discovered Lake Ngami. But he heard of more distant rivers 
and tribes, and his brave unresting soul yearned to reach them 
also, but Chief Lechulatebe would help him to go no farther, 
but desired him to remain with his people. 

Livingstone was convinced that not so much of Africa was 
a great desert as people had generally believed. He made his 
way back along the edge of the Kalahari desert, and thence to 
Kolobeng. The next year, with his wife and three children in 
the wagon, he began the journey again. What a wonderful 
and adventurous journey for little white children! 

The children were attacked by fever, through which their 
father nursed them, then took them back to their humble home. 
The next year, however, they all started again. Their guide 
lost his way, and for over four days they were without water 



310 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

in the parched desert. The children moaned and cried with 
the burning thirst. On the fifth day one of the men found a 
spring of water, and they were saved. They journeyed along 
the Zouga, and up the Tamunakle, to the home of Sebituane, 
a warlike chief of the Makalolo, who became Livingstone's 
warm friend. But in a few weeks the friendly chief died. 
His daughter ruled in his stead. 

Here Livingstone again left his family, and journeyed 
northeast, finding a broad, beautiful river, which proved to be 
the Zambezi, flowing into the Indian Ocean. 

Feeling that he could not be contented unless he opened 
a path from the interior, where they now were, to the east or 
west coast, he again took his wdfe and children to Kolobeng. 
But what was their surprise to find that Sechele and his tribe 
had been driven off by the Boers, their possessions plundered, 
and the village desolate. 

They went on to Kuruman, visiting the Moffats, hence to 
the Cape of Good Hope, at the extreme southern tip of Africa. 
There the loving mother and four children sailed away to 
England, leaving the lonely but resolute father to turn back 
into the jungles, to fight heathenism and the slave business, and 
to open, if possible, a path to the coasts. 

Said he, "I will go anywhere, provided it be jorward.^* 

*'The Boers have made up their minds to close the coun- 
try. I am determined to open it. Time will show who will 
win. 

*7 mil open up a path through the countr]^ or — PER- 
ISH''! 

Such a resolution meant accomplishment when made by a 
man whose life ^^'as a succession of deeds which men said were 
impossible. His resourceful mind found a way through ob- 



David Livingstone 3 1 1 

stacles or around them, when a fainter heart would have given 
up the effort. 

With many difficulties he made his way again to the dis- 
tant Makalolo tribe, hauling his pontoon in the wagon, then 
taking the wagon apart to carry it across the Chobe on the 
boat. Farther on he pioneered, until he reached Linyanti, 
where dwelt Sekeletu, the son of Sebituane. This kind chief 
journeyed on farther with the dauntless missionary, exploring 
the Zambezi. 

Returning to Linyanti, he secured twenty-seven Maka- 
lolo to carry luggage and help him make a path to the sea. 
If he had been obliged to pay all his helpers he never could 
have accomplished much, for he had but little money. But 
the natives learned to trust him implicitly, and served him faith- 
fully, just for love. 

"So Livingstone and his twenty-seven African compan- 
ions started off on their tremendous pathfinding. He left his 
wagon in charge of the Makalolo at Linyanti. One man car- 
ried a tin box with some spare clothing in it, another bore his 
case of medicines, a third his books, and a fourth his magic 
lantern. Others carried his small gypsy tent, a sheepskin man- 
tle, and a horse rug." With the accuracy of a scientist he 
observed in detail the animals, birds, fish and reptiles; the 
plants, trees, vines and flowers; the soil and verdure; the sur- 
face and geologic structure of the ground; the latitude and 
longitude, making maps of the country. 

"As he sits there in the canoe scanning the banks, nothing 
seems to escape Livingstone's bright, fearless, blue-gray eyes. 
He notes everything, from the tall palmyra tree-tops, and the 
many-colored tangle of creeper and flower, to he kind of soil 
through which the river runs. He sees from the color of the 
water in the river, the soil that it has already drained. 



312 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

He watches the habits of every creature, from the huge 
hippopotamus c^o^\Tl to a curious ant-eating insect that stands 
on it head to attract the ants, and wags a feathery tail, in 
which are hidden a pair of tweezers. He reckons the kind 
of a crop that each part of the country could bear. He finds 
his directions, and guides his travel on the vast trackless conti- 
nent by the stars. And, living for a year among men who are 
by nature filthy-mouthed, quarrelsome, vain and violent, he r**- 
mains clean, strong, and most powerfully peaceful, guiding 
his walk and that of his companions by a book which he ha-* 
consulted for years, and ^^•hich is, to him, the pathfinder'^ 
manual — the Bible." 

At nightfall, tired and sleepy, they lie down in their has*"- 
ily-constructed shelters, surrounding 'the cattle, and the camp- 
fire burning brightly to frighten away wild beasts. After 
WTiting up his journal, and alone waiting on God, the mission- 
ary also retires, having taken every precaution for the safe^v 
of all his men. The faithful head-boatman slept in the doc- 
way of Livingstone's tent. The man or beast who would 
harm his master must do it over his body. 

"Man, ox, gun, or tusk, you must give me," was demanded 
again and again by hostile tribes, who had learned to hate the 
white traders for their treachery. But Livingstone would 
sooner part with his own life than give one of his men ir^o 
slavery. He could not spare many oxen, as he needed them. 
His gun he needed to obtain food. He had a few tusks, 
given to him by Sekeletu to trade at the coast. 

At one place, neither part of an ox, a handkerchief, some 
beads, nor all Livingstone could offer, would gratify the greed 
of the chief. He insisted that a man be given as a slave Ke- 
fore the party would be permitted to pass through his territory. 
Livingstone sat calmly on his camp-stool, with his gun across 



David Livingstone 313 

his lap, while the angry natives were brandishing their swords 
and whispering angrily, then shouting death. "A young man 
rushed at Livingstone to kill him. Livingstone quickly put 
the muzzle of his gun to the young man's mouth. The youth 
ran for his life. Livingstone said, 'We will not strike the f^rst 
blow. If you do so the guilt of blood is on your head.' 

"Livingstone's men, armed with their hunting javelins, 
quickly surrounded the chief, Njambi. He, seeing that if his 
own men fired at Livingstone he himself would at once be 
killed by the Makalolo, decided on peace. Presents were ex- 
changed, and Livingstone and his party went on." 

One day, when an ox was demanded, Livingstone offered 
one whose tail happened to be cut off. "No, we will not 
have it. Its tail has been cut, and witchcraft medicine put in," 
said they. Livingstone's men laughed heartily, then cut off 
the end of the tail of each of the other oxen, and never had 
another request for an ox. 

Often the only place where he could keep his watch dry 
was under his armpit, for he would be up to his waist in flood 
and marsh, while the rain came down from above. The fever 
made Livingstone so weak that he could neither sit on the ox 
nor walk without support. Sometimes he just staggered on 
like one in a dream. But the white man who would go on 
refused to stop or turn back in his quest. 

"Your white leader is only taking you to the coast to sell 
you as slaves," whispered some villagers to the Makalolo. 
They began to doubt and despair, and threaten to turn back 
and go home. 

"If you go back, still I shall go on," said the patient, 
persevering man. He went alone to pray. Soon his faithful 
men repented, and gathered about him, saying, "We will 
never leave you. We are your children." 



314 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"At last, after traveling for over six months by canoe, on 
ox-back and on foot, through marsh and forest, through river 
and flood, in fever and hunger, in peril of savage men and 
wild beasts, for fifteen hundred miles which no white man had 
ever seen before, Livingstone came out on a high plain in sight 
of the sea and Loanda — the goal of his journey! 

"His companions, who had never before seen the sea, or 
really believed in its existence, looked with wonder on the 
limitless blue ocean, sparkling in the sun. 

" 'We marched along with our father, believing that the 
world has no end. But all at once the world said to us, "I 
am finished." There is no more of me.' " 

They were most hospitably received at Loanda, many gifts 
of clothes, a tent, supplies, etc., being provided for them. 
Fever-stricken, lonely and weary, Livingstone was begged to 
go aboard the British steamer in the harbor and sail home to 
England, to his dear wife and children. But he could not be 
induced to do so, for he had promised the kind Makalolo to 
bring them back to their home, over fifteen hundred miles 
away. In ceaseless trudging, over blistering plain and tangled 
forest, he was true to his word to those poor ignorant Afri- 
cans! No wonder they loved him! 

He sent his journels, written daily vvdth remarkable de- 
tail and accuracy, to England by that outgoing ship. But it 
was lost at sea! Perhaps the missionary, too, would have 
perished had he listened to the flesh, and broken his word 
with the poor black men. The news of the sinking of the 
ship reached him several days after he left Loanda. Eager 
to go on, yet the patient man tarried three months, and faith- 
fully re-wrote the account of his travels, for he wished to give 
to the world the information known only to himself. 



David Livingstone 315 

"At last they reached Linyanti, the home of the Maka- 
lolo, in triumph. Livingstone was amused at the pride of his 
men as they strutted into the village, dressed in their new 
clothes, which they had carefully carried all the way from 
Loanda. He heard them boasting, 'We went on till we had 
finished the whole world. We only turned when there was 
no more land.' " 

But the great pathfinder did not settle down yet. The 
path to the west coast was fever-stricken and dangerous. He 
hoped to find a better way to the east coast. With the aid of 
Sekeletu, he secured one hundred and twenty men to go with 
him, and thirteen oxen for riding and for food. They trav- 
eled much at night to avoid the tsetse fly, which is fatal to 
horses and cattle. On this trip he discovered five mighty cata- 
racts, roaring like thunder, rolling over the edge of a preci- 
pice a mile wide, dashing down four hundred feet, the spray 
rising in great columns and hiding the sun. In the spray hung 
a double rainbow, *'a beautiful bridge of quietness over the 
rage of the tumbling water." He named this Niagara of Af- 
rica the Victoria Falls. On a tree trunk, on the island at its 
brink, Livingstone carved his initials in November, 1855. 

On this journey he was exposed to more danger from bar- 
barous tribes through whose lands they must pass. The cruel 
slave trade had made the natives' vicious and suspicious. 
Burning villages and bleaching bones and troops of savages, 
bound and being driven to the coast, told the heart-rending 
story. Moreover, the slavers hated Livingstone with devilish 
malice, and desired his destruction, for he was sending infor- 
mation to Europe and America that was stirring the hearts of 
the public to oppose the fearful traffic. 

Livingstone used peaceable means to win favor, and usu- 
ally was successful. He interested the suspicious natives with 



316 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

his watch, or magnifying lens, or trinkets from his pockets, and 
won them by gifts. 

The story of the journey is a repetition of the dangers and 
hardships, the fevers and weariness, of the previous travels. 

On March 2, 1856, Livingstone was worn with fever, 
travel and lack of food. He could go no farther, and lay 
down to rest, about eight miles from Tette, on the Zambezi. 
Early the next morning his men were frightened by two sol- 
diers, but they were friends, bringing them a fine breakfast. 
Eagerly they walked the other eight rough miles, then traveled 
by canoe to Quilimane. Livingstone settled his men on plan- 
tations, or at Quilimane, promising to return if he lived to do 
so, and after an absence of sixteen toilsome years, embarked 
for England. He had not spoken in English for three and a 
half years. 

He reached his family near Christmas, 1856. What a 
joyful home-coming it was! One anticipated joy was not his, 
that was to see his aged father, and recount the events of the 
recent years. His father had died just before his illustrious 
son reached home. But his mother was still living, and he 
visited her. 

With his wife and youngest son, he left England in the 
spring of 1858, landing safely at Cape Town. He left his 
wife with her parents at Kuruman, while he steamed away in 
his new ship, the "Pearl", off to the east coast, up the Zam- 
bezi, to Quilimane and Tette, where he was widely and pro- 
fusely welcomed by his Makalolo friends whom he had prom- 
ised to take back to their country. 

True to his word, he took them back, discovering the 

Morumbwa cataract on the journey. They came also to six 

foaming cataracts which they named the Murchison Falls. 

. In one great marsh he counted eight hundred elephants, and 



David Livingstone 317 

captured one small one. They shot two enormous pythons, or 
serpents, ten feet long. They found the beautiful Lake 
Shirwa, and in September, 1 859, the waters of Lake Nyassa 
gleamed before them. Livingstone was the first white man 
to view it. He reached Linyanti again, his promise fulfilled 
to bring his men home. 

His last travels are pathetic, indeed. His feet became 
blistered. The slave-raiders stole his goats, so he had no milk. 
He had to eat hard maize, so that his teeth fell out. He drew 
up h's belt three holes to relieve his hunger. He dreamed 
about splendid dinners, but awoke to find himself more hun- 
gry than ever. Then his medicine-chest was stolen. His 
quinine was gone, which had helped him to fight off many 
sieges of fever. "This loss gnaws at my heart terribly. I 
feel as if I had now received sentence of death," wrote he. 
He was so ill that he tottered as he walked, and fell down 
insensible. Gaining some strength, he went on, having heard 
of other rivers, and hoping to find the rise of the Nile. 
Finally he returned to Ujiji, hoping to find supplies, letters, 
medicine, and papers from England. But nearly all his sup- 
plies had been stolen or burned by the Arab slave-traders, 
who hated him so bitterly. When he wrote forty letters home, 
and paid carriers to take them to the coast, the Arabs de- 
stroyed every one. 

At Ujiji one day there strode up to him a tall, brave 
American, Henry Morton Stanley, who had traveled many 
thousands of miles to find the man of God. Never was voice 
or form more welcome. He handed the pathfinder a bag of 
letters. Documents of statesmen and scholars were laid aside 
as he eagerly read loving missives from his children, now 
motherless, for she had died of fever while visiting her husband 
two or three years previous. 



318 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

The visit of Stanley brought new life to Livingstone. 
Instead of his scant two meals a day, he now enjoyed four 
hearty meals, for Stanley had brought a plenty of provisions, 
also medicines, clothes and news. For over four months they 
were together, Stanley traveling with him farther into the in- 
terior. He begged Livingstone to go home with him, but he 
replied, **I must finish my task." 

After Christmas, 1872, he went southward, plunging 
through the dark and awful marshes round Lake Bangweolo. 
Livingstone suffered agonies of pain, and grew weaker every 
day. He could no longer walk, and was carried in a ham- 
mock swung on a pole. He became too weak even to bear 
the gentle jolting, and his noble servants tenderly put him down, 
while they built a hut for him. His hut was finished, and 
they carried him in. He wound his watch, then asked, "Is 
this the Luapula?" *'No." "How many days is it to the 
Laupula?" "Three days." He sighed. 

They helped him to select some medicine, then he bade 
them go to rest. The one left with him called to Susi just 
before dawn. They entered the hut, and by the flickering 
candle they saw his motionless form, kneeling by his bedside, 
with his head buried in his hands. His last act had been to 
commend himself to God, and perhaps breathe a prayer for 
Africa, shrouded in heathen darkness. The prayer was 
ended. He had found the Path to the Celestial City. 

Tenderly his five faithful natives wrapped his embalmed 
body, tying it securely to a pole, and through three thousand 
miles of wilderness, jungle, marsh and desert, facing dangers 
from wild beasts, savage men, hunger and thirst, they bore the 
precious dust to the sea, whence it was taken by ship to Eng- 
land, and amid the honors of the nation and all the world it 
was laid in Westminster Abbey, with the most illustrious dead. 




GEORGE MULLER. 



GEORGE MOLLER 



npO effectually apply the test of prayer to the unseen God, 
■■• in such a way as to leave no doubt that, in these very 
days in which we live, it is perfectly safe to cut loose froni 
every human dependence and cast ourselves in faith upon the 
promises of a faithful Jehovah, was the unusual aim and life 
purpose to which the subject of this sketch, George Miiller, 
devoted his long, useful life. 

He was born near Halberstadt, Prussia, September 27, 
1805. While in training for the ministry, he was dissipated 
in his habits, and at sixteen was sent to prison for defrauding 
a hotel-keeper. He went to Halle as a student of divinity. 
A visit to a private meeting for prayer and praise proved the 
turning point in his life. He was soundly converted. 

In 1 826 he began to preach and teach. In his pastorate 
at Ebenezer Chapel, of Teignmouth, England, he abolished 
collections, and depended on voluntary gifts. 

He undertook to demonstrate to the unbelieving world that 
God is a living, present God, and that He proves it by an- 
swering prayer; and that the test of this fact might be definite 
and conclusive*, he undertook to gather, feed, house, clothe, 
and also to teach and to train, all available orphans who were 
legitimate children, but deprived of both parents by death, 
and destitute. 

He began in a small way by giving to a few children, 
gathered out of the streets, a bit of bread for breakfast, and 

321 



322 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

then teaching them for about an hour and a half to read the 
Scriptures. This work he carried on for sixty-five years, until 
there were under his care, and in the orphan houses which he 
built, twenty-two hundred orphans, with their helpers. 

In all that time his sole dependence was on Jehovah, the 
Living, Present God. He appealed to no man for help, and 
did not even allow any need to be known before it had been 
supplied, even his intimate co-workers being forbidden to men- 
tion any existing want outside the walls of the institution. 

Things spiritual and unseen are, to the average man, dis- 
tant and indistinct. By using the key of faith and prayer, we 
may unlock the hidden treasuries of God, and furnish to our 
fellow-men a concrete proof that "God is, and is a rewarder 
of them that diligently seek him." "When a man's chief 
business is to serve and please the Lord, all his circumstances 
become his servants." 

This one poor man, in his labors of over three-score years, 
built five large orphan houses on Ashley Down, Bristol, Eng- 
land, and took under his care over ten thousand orphans, 
spending for them edmost a million dollars. He gave aid to 
day schools and Sunday-schools, in Britain and other lands, 
where nearly one hundred and fifty thousand children have 
been taught. He circulated nearly two million Bibles, or parts 
of it, at a cost of $200,000; also three million books and 
tracts at a cost of about $200,000 more. In addition to this, 
he spent about $1,300,000 to aid missionary labors in vari- 
ous lands. The aggregate of money he thus handled for the 
Lord in answer to private prayer was seven million, five hun- 
dred thousand dollars! 

Of money given to him for his own use, or bequeathed to 
him personally, he gave over $400,000 to the work so dear 
to his heart. 



George Muller 323 

He did not die rich. The total value of his books and 
earthly possessions at his death was less than eight hundred 
dollars! His object had not been to lay up earthly treasure, 
and, like John Wesley, he would have felt guilty of not prac- 
tising what he preached had he hoarded wealth. 

Since his death, in 1 898, the work has been carried on by 
his successors and helpers on the same principles, and with the 
same results. The same God honors the same mode of doing 
His work. 

The institutions dependent upon the gifts of the rich and 
philanthropic advertise widely, build up a constituency, and 
make such public note of gifts that it is very honorable to be 
listed among the contributors. 

But the work of George Miiller was conducted on a dif- 
ferent plan. Hundreds of cases occurred when there was not 
sufficient for the next meal, yet only God was appealed to, 
and never but twice was it necessary to postpone a meal, and 
then only for half an hour. 

The supplies always kept pace with the growing needs. 
As the institutions enlarged, the amounts necessary for the in- 
creased running expenses were supplied by the Lord. 

Once, in a crisis, all available funds were gathered. A 
single penny was lacking to make up the necessary amount. 
That lonely penny was found in the contribution box. 

Often the exact amount needed for some repairs or sup- 
plies was received in the mail from a donor who knew abso- 
lutely nothing of the need. 

In order that even the yearly reports might not be regarded 
as a sly appeal for money, the reports were withheld for over 
two years, yet the supplying of every need continued without 
interruption. 



DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY 



TV /I ENTION of the name of D. L. Moody conjures to the 
'*■''•'' mind's eye a vivacious and supremely earnest preacher 
of righteousness, addressing vast audiences of ten or fifteen 
thousands of eager listeners, while multitudes turn to God in 
repentance and faith. His was the call of broad, general 
evangelism; like John the Baptist, he called in rugged lan- 
guage to the throngs to repent, and to bring forth fruits meet 
for repentance. 

The bustling, wilful, rollicking boy, who was the sixth 
child in the family of nine children, reared by their widowed 
mother, gave promise of being most anything but a preacher. 
The father died when D wight was just four years old, but 
the brave, strong mother kept her numerous brood together, 
aided by the counsel and meager help of the parson and her 
brothers. The little home on the mountain side at Northfield, 
Mass., with its couple acres of land and some debts, was all 
she had, but patiently and hopefully she lifted her burden of 
toil and care until her little ones grew able to fill her hands 
with plenty and her heart with joy and comfort. "When God 
wants to make a great man, he begins by making a great 
woman." All who met Mrs. Moody were not at a loss to 
know where he got his vim, courage, and hard common sense. 
"In the shadow of every great man walks his mother." Her 
heroism, pluck and courage to attack hard propositions were 
transmitted to her son. 

324 







DwiGHT Lyman Moody 



DwiGHT Lyman Moody 327 

Her husband had died suddenly, on his knees in prayer. 
She, too, lived a life of devotion and practical piety, and was 
her children's chief instructor in religion. 

Until he was about seventeen this vigorous, ambitious, 
strong-willed youth attended the district school. But what- 
ever information he received was mostly by accident, as he vol- 
untarily gave his attention to most anything rather than books. 
About the time he had to quit school that he might more largely 
aid in the support of the family, he awakened to the realiza- 
tion of his lost opportunity, and often in later life regretted the 
waste of his school days. But, as always, his pluck helped 
him out, and his ready wit saved him from despair. 

He started out to find his fortune, but at first fortune did 
not seem to favor him. There was more of the country in his 
appearance and manners than Boston was accustomed to. A 
big boil on his neck did not improve his prospects. He was 
too independent to ask employment of a relative until, for a 
week or more, he had sought elsewhere in vain. Finally, tak- 
ing some good advice, he went to his uncle, Samuel Holton, 
who gave him employment in his store on condition that he 
board at a place of his uncle's selection, stay in at nights, and 
regularly attend Sunday-school. This he agreed to do, and 
faithfully kept his promise, though obedience to his elders had 
been a rare grace in him. He did not feel at home among 
the well-dressed, well-bred city folks, but his pride and tenac- 
ity of purpose kept him at the task of conquering a place for 
himself in their respect. 

The pastor of the Congregational church captivated this 
spirited youth. No ordinary preacher would have secured his 
respect. He would have spent the time in criticising and 
mimicry. But at last he found a man who he believed was 
wiser than himself! 



328 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

The Sunday-school teacher failed to interest him for a 
long time. But one day the unpromising pupil ventured a 
remark, upon which the tactful teacher seized and enlarged. 
His jealousy of the good clothes and manners of the other 
church-goers made him revengeful and scornful. But the 
Lord softened his heart, and when the Sunday-school teacher 
asked him kindly to surrender to God, he yielded, and in an- 
swer to earnest seeking, he found the definite assurance of 
pardon. He at once took opportunity to testify, and add a 
little exhortation, much to the discomfort of the polished be- 
lievers around him. Some wished his uncle to counsel him to 
keep still until he could tell in more elegant language the story 
of his salvation. But the uncle wisely said nothing to his 
fearless and enthusiastic nephew. 

He applied for church-membership, and went before the 
deacons for examination. He knew very little theology. 
Like the blind man, there was but one thing he knew, that 
was the fact of his salvation. So he was placed on a kind 
of probation with two elders to look after him. 

Six months later he applied again for admission, and this 
time was received, though with some misgivings. Moody paid 
his debt of gratitude to the Sunday-school teacher by later 
bringing his son to the Lord. The rest of the time he spent 
in Boston he seemed to feel like a caged bird. But no one 
directed his activities. They seemed more concerned to put 
an occasional extinguisher upon his ardent zeal. And so he 
planned to go to the great, broad, new west, where he would 
be sure to find room. 

In 1856 he landed in Chicago, and found a position as 
salesman in the boot and shoe store of Mr. Wisall. His bluff, 
hearty style made him popular with the rough class of cus- 
tomers coming into the growing town. Cranky, unmcinageable 



DwiGHT Lyman Moody 329 

customers were turned over to him, who took great delight in 
convincing them that he had just the article they wanted. 
Moody's duties were partly outdoors, also. He used to visit 
hotels, depots and public places, to discover prospective pur- 
chasers and drum up trade. Or if there were no customers 
in the store, he would stand outside the door, button-hole 
strangers, and sell them a bill of goods. He literally com- 
pelled them to come in. 

He hated billiards, theaters, cards, and all such amuse- 
ments as enticements of the devil. Coming into the store from 
a meeting one night, he found some of his fellow-clerks en- 
gaged in a game of checkers. He seized the board, dashed it 
to pieces, and dropped on his knees to pray. 

He joined the Plymouth Congregational church, and at 
once hired four pews, and kept them full of young men every 
Sabbath. But he also testified and exhorted in a way the 
brethren did not relish. He told the Lord some things in 
prayer which were not very complimentary to them. Accord- 
ingly he was advised to hold his peace, but keep his pews 
full of youths. The speaking and praying could be better 
done by some more pleasing tongue. 

Partly because no one church could furnish him with 
enough to do, he attended the Methodist church on Sabbath 
mornings, at an hour when there were no services in his own. 
Outside the door he would stand, giving printed and verbal 
invitations to passers-by. Also he discovered a little mission 
Sunday-school, where he offered to teach a class, but the 
superintendent replied that he had more teachers than classes, 
but that if he brought in his own scholars he might teach 
them! Here is a good example for all ardent candidates for 
a job in the service of the Lord! The next Sunday Moody 



330 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

appeared, followed by eighteen bare-headed, bare- footed 
street gamins and gutter-snipes, ragged and dirty. 

In one of his visiting bouts he met Mr. J. B. Stillson, do- 
ing the same thing. The two gladly joined company, visit- 
ing ships in the river, giving out tracts and testaments to the 
sailors, and holding little meetings on deck or at street corners. 
That sum.mer they helped to recruit twenty Sunday-schools. 
Then Moody rented a deserted saloon near the North Side 
Market, where he started a Sunday-school of his own, made 
up of the offscouring of society. Two hundred drinking 
places were within range of his voice in the open-air services 
held on the steps of the Mission. The district in which he 
located was known as the Sands, a moral lazaretto, whither 
bad women and worse men swarmed and committed such 
crimes that it was dangerous for a decent person to walk the 
street after nightfall. But it was Moody's delight to bring the 
worst of sinners to Christ. They were people to whom he 
could talk without worrying over the defects of his education. 
He spent hours reading his Bible, spelling out the hard words, 
or cheerfully skipping the impossible ones, but always finding 
the Lord in His Word. 

Mr. Reynolds happened to drop in at a meeting in the 
old shanty ex-saloon. There he saw young Moody, sur- 
rounded by a few tallow candles, holding a negro boy, and 
trying to read to him the story of the prodigal son. Many of 
the words in the simple story he could not make out and had 
to skip. The spectator soliloquized, "If the Lord can ever 
use such an instrument as that for His honor and glory, it 
will astonish me." 

None of the ideal modern equipment of a Sunday-school 
was his; no organ, blackboard, charts, lesson leaves, banners 
and rewards. But he had an almost womanly love for chil- 



DwiGHT Lyman Moody 331 

dren. He won their confidence. He romped with them in 
the jolliest fashion, but was always in control. He carried 
"Missionary Sugar'* in his pockets, and won many a fleeing 
candidate for his school by a generous lump. Soon he was 
the most popular man in that region. Yet he sometimes had 
to flee for his life when some angry parent attacked him for 
Inviting his children to the school. But Moody invariably re- 
turned again and again, until he found the parent in an ap- 
proachable frame of mind, and generally won the whole fam- 
ily. Neither was he satisfied with mere routine meetings. His 
passion was to get souls saved from sin, and reclaimed from 
their vile lives. He persuaded some of his friends to help 
him. The order was sometimes rather hilarious, but Moody 
didn't mind noise, and if any youngster was too irrepressibly 
troublesome he generally found a way to subdue him. 

Their hall became too small for the Sunday attendance, 
so he secured the use of a great hall over the market. It was 
used for a dance on Saturday night, and it was necessary to 
employ most of Sabbath morning in sweeping and washing 
out the tobacco juice and beer. There were no chairs, so the 
scholars had to stand or sit on the floor! Such a fact would 
be fatal to any other school, but not so in this case. Moody 
had taken an interest never shown before in the rag-tag and 
bob-tail society of the Sands, and they reciprocated his large- 
hearted kindness. He solicited money from friends and busi- 
ness men, and seated the room. One person whom he inter- 
ested was Mr. J. V. Farwell, who visited the school. He 
found them a riotous bunch, leaning up against the walls in 
ever varying forms, jumping, whistling, etc. But Moody 
nominated Farwell as Superintendent, and before he had time 
to object, the school elected him with a deafening "hurrah". 
Accordingly, for more than six years he conducted the inter- 



332 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

nal affairs of the school, for which work he was well fitted, 
while Moody continued unabated his scout work of recruit- 
ing. It is estimated that annually two thousand children at- 
tended the school, many of them staying only a brief time. 
But it changed the whole course of many lives. 

Moody used all his spare money, as well as some begged 
from his friends, not only in the Sunday-school enterprise, but 
in buying clothes and provisions for the poor or sick whom he 
found in his visiting. His school increased in vigor and num- 
bers, and gradually improved in order and spiritual life. For 
the seventy or more classes there was no lack of teachers, for 
Christian people all over the city visited this curiosity of grace 
and volunteered assistance. The International Sunday-school 
Lessons, all nicely arranged and systematically taught, were 
not to be had then, and the task of keeping anything like 
unity in teaching was no small one. 

The revival in 1857 was followed by the organization of 
the Y. M. C. A. and the beginning of the Noon Prayer- 
meetings. For a time the prayer-meetings were kept up with 
interest, but then waned, until there were only about three 
faithful ones. Moody was one of those three, and through his 
zeal and energy it was wonderfully revived. Fifteen minutes 
before twelve he would take his post in front of the building 
and hail passers-by, inviting them to the noon meeting, and 
persuading them that, if they were Christians, it was their duty 
to go. If not converted, there would be the best possible op- 
portunity. It grew to enormous size and interest. Many 
written requests were sent in for prayers, and the direct an- 
swers were marvelous. 

Moody was so engrossed in the Lord's work that he de- 
cided to give all his time to it. However, he had not shirked 
his business duties. It was said of him that he never sat down 



DwiGHT Lyman Moody 333 

in the store to chat, like the other clerks. If he had no cus- 
tomer, he went out on the street to find one, and the clerks 
would say, "There is the spider again, watching for a fly." 
One of his old employers said, "Moody might have saved 
money if he had not spent so much on his mission. I have seen 
as many as twenty children come into the store at once to be 
fitted out with shoes." 

Soon after he quit business life, Mr. Hill met him and 
asked, "Moody, what are you doing?" "I am at work for 
Jesus Christ," was the reply. 

"How are you going to live?" asked a friend. "God will 
provide for me if He wishes me to keep on," was Moody's 
reply. He was supremely happy, giving most of his time to 
his mission and visiting in the slums, and giving a part of his 
time to his second love, the Y. M. C. A., of whose visiting 
committee he was chairman. For his labors he received no 
salary, and often lodged in the mission, sleeping on a hard 
bench and dining on the coarsest fare. He was not ordained, 
nor recognized on an equality with the regular ministers of the 
city. But in labors he was more abundant than them all. 
The report of the Committee of Visitation, of which Moody 
was the chairman, shows in one year the number of families 
visited to be 554, and the amount of money bestowed in char- 
ity, $2,350. The record of spiritual results is written in 
Heaven. 

Moody found a new line of work at hand during the war. 
Great camps for the soldiers near Chicago furnished the oppor- 
tunity. Public worship on the Sabbath, and prayer-meetings 
during the week, were established within easy reach. Every 
evening eight or ten services were held, and on Sabbath an 
almost continual service. This work led him out to other 
camps over the country, and he began to be more widely 



334 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

knowTi, Having so many sinners to pray with at the point of 

death, the workers developed a man'elous readiness of faith. 
Heaven seemed near, and often before they reached the 
"Amen" the dying soldier had found peace \N'ith God. 

The Chicago noon prayer-meeting became the center of 
this movement, and requests for prayer %vere received by the 
thousands, and often, and in quick succession, came the glo- 
rious tidings of blessed ans^s•ers. Gifts of money and sud- 
plies were sent in to help on the ^^'ork. 

Also his Sunday-school work gre\s- with such rapidity 
that the hall over the old market became too sm.all. Accord- 
ingly a commodious chapel was erected at the cost of about 
$20,000. The school numibered about one thousand. Among 
the school and their parents ^^'ere about three hundred converts. 
Mr. Moody had not planned to have a church. His converts 
had, by his advice, joined churches of their choice. But not 
all of them felt at home in the great churches. They came 
from a depth of heathenism unkno^Mi to those polished, self- 
righteous congregations. Their fellowship of suffering, pwDverty, 
ignorance, and new-found faith bound them to each other and 
to the mission. Accordingly, Moody \vas practically com- 
pelled after some years to organize them into a church, with 
doctrines and polit>' stated to suit their needs and compre- 
hension. 

About this time he m.arried, and set up housekeeping in a 
little cottage on the North Side. Some years later a friend 
gave him a free lease of a nice home, which was furnished 
throughout by Christian friends. 

The noon prayer-m.eeting had gro^sn so large that the Y. 
M. C. A. quarters were too small, people being turned away 
for want of room. Accordingly Moody was placed at the 
head of a committee to raise funds. $101,000 were raised 



DwiGHT Lyman Moody 335 

for the project, and Farwell Hall was erected, its large audi- 
torium seating three thousand, and its prayer room seating one 
thousand. In addition, there were library, reading-room, tract 
and publishing departments, relief department, and a private 
prayer-closet. In those days the Y. M. C. A. was not fitted 
up for pool, billiards and kindergarten gambling. The fine 
building was dedicated in September, 1 868, but burned down 
shortly after. Before the fire was entirely out, plans were 
under way for a new hall, and a year later it was completed 
on the same site. Large sums of money were given Moody 
by wealthy persons who made no profession of religion, but 
who admired his youthful heartiness and boundless faith. 

"As a platform speaker and a manager of crowds, this 
man, with none of the graces of oratory, but with a soul on 
fire with love and zeal, came to be a master of men." His 
soul-saving work in those Sunday-school gatherings led out 
into evangelistic work which became nation-wide, and finally 
took him across the sea more than once. 

He gathered about him a body of workers, well trained 
to aid seekers in the inquiry meetings held in neighboring halls 
or churches. Thither flocked hundreds of anxious souls after 
his stirring sermons and persuasive appeal. 

It is said that, during his ministry, he addressed over 50,~ 
000,000 people. He was also the author of several religious 
publications. 

In 1879 he founded a school for poor girls at Northfield, 
Mass., which later grew into the celebrated Northfield and 
Mt. Hermon institutions. 

Having been rich in labors, he went to his reward De- 
cember 22, 1899. 



ROBERT MOFFAT 

ROBERT MOFFAT and his great son-in-law, David 
Livingstone, were to Africa what WiUiam Carey was 
to India, and J. Hudson Taylor was to China. In those days 
missionary effort was but in its infancy. Missionary societies 
were just beginning to come into existence. The heathen 
world lay shrouded in darkness, removed from Christendom 
and civilization by lonely weeks and months of dangerous 
travel by sail upon an unknown sea. It was a venturesome 
undertaking, and messengers of the Gospel to those strange 
regions bade farewell to loved ones, having scarcely any hope 
of seeing them again. Hence missionaries were martyr mate- 
rial, and none but brave, heroic souls, who counted not their 
lives dear to themselves, would undertake such hazardous toil. 
Added to the gross ignorance, degradation, and satanic super- 
stitions of the natives, was the terror of wild beasts — the ele- 
phant, tiger, hyena, rhinoceros, lion, alligator, etc. 

But Mary the wife of Robert Moffat, was no less brave 
than was he. For six or eight months she would remain at 
the mission station at Kuruman, the only white woman within 
hundreds of miles, while her husband was visiting other tribes, 
aiding the natives in settling tribal quarrels, or establishing 
new stations, and aiding young workers in getting adjusted and 
started in the laborious work of teaching the heathen mind 
their duty to God and their fellow-men. As their numerous 
family grew up about them, and it became necessary to part 
with their lovely children in order that they might receive a 

336 




Robert Moffat 



Robert Moffat 339 

proper education, Mary Moffat, accompanied by a heathen 
maid and five or six trusty natives, several times made the 
tedious journey of seven or eight hundred miles by ox-cart to 
the Cape, finding suitable guardianship for her darlings, and 
sending them back to England, tearing herself away from her 
treasures, and turning back again into the heathen wilderness 
to go on with the self-sacrificing work of teaching the long- 
neglected natives to read, write, sew, cook, keep house, and 
live decently. 

Hebrews, ch. 11, gives us the secret of the endurance of 
these heroes of faith. When they had labored in the face of 
all kinds of hindrances, also personal bereavement (several of 
their children died in Africa), and after seven years could not 
boast one convert, Moffat and his helpers were becoming dis- 
heartened, and questioning whether it really paid to bestow so 
much labor and money to better a people who seemed very 
ready to receive help and favors constantly from the mission- 
aries, but who turned away with such cold-hearted indifference 
from the message of salvation offered to them at every oppor- 
tuaity. To labor on, year after year, with this message burn- 
ing in their hearts, and see none finding Jesus, was indeed a 
sore trial. But Mary Moffat never wavered. She would 
fall back on the promises of the unchangeable God emd say, 
"We may not live to see it, but the awakening will come, as 
surely as the sun will rise tomorrow.'* A letter was received 
from her friend, Mrs. Greaves, asking if there was anything 
of use which could be sent. The answer of Mary MofFat was, 
"Send us a communion service; we shall want it some day.** 
At that time there was no glimmer of light through the gloom, 
and not until the tenth year of their laborious, patient toil did 
the shadows break away. Then suddenly, without any ap- 
parent or unusual reason, a great concern came upon the na- 



340 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

lives. They thronged the little chapel, they listened atten- 
tively, a sense of sin and guilt seized them, and the missionaries 
would be called any time in the day or night to instruct seek- 
ers and to pray with them. They evidenced their sincerity by 
giving up polygamy, one man sending away nine of his ten 
wives; by wanting cloth to make clothes and cover their naked- 
ness, thus shaming American Christian (?) women who boldly 
walk the streets with arms, bosoms and lower limbs exposed 
to the curious gaze of men ; emd by settling down to industrious 
home-life, farming small sections of ground, and improving the 
condition of their large families; and by aiding in the arduous 
task of erecting more substantial and imposing mission build- 
ings. The Kuruman community attained a far-reaching repu- 
tation for industry, honesty, peaceableness and godliness, and 
the white man, Moffat, was more truly the sovereign of that 
interior part of Africa than the good Queen Victoria or her 
representatives at the distant coast. 

It was more than three years since Mary Moffat had writ- 
ten for the communion set, her faith anticipating the glorious 
victories of the Gospel. A Sabbath was appointed for the 
celebration of the Lord's Supper with the native converts. 
Just the day before the appointed Sabbath the long-delayed 
communion set arrived! How marvelously God's providences 
fit together! 

Toward the end of 1838 the Moffats started for Cape 
Town, hoping to be able there to print the New Testament, 
which, by years of patient toil amidst many other and varied 
duties, Robert Moffat had translated into the Sechwana, after 
having reduced the native language to writing. But the facili- 
ties at the coast for printing on so large a scale were not suffi- 
cient, and so passage was taken for England. On the jour- 



Robert Moffat 341 

ny, a little daughter was born, and a promising little son, 
Jamie, died at sea. 

After an absence of about twenty-two years, they were 
welcomed back home with great missionary enthusiasm. 

Returning to Africa, they labored steadily on, seeing the 
work expand and deepen. Their eldest daughter, Mary, was 
married to David Livingstone. 

It was about fifty-four years since they first landed in 
Africa. The leaving of the patriarchal pair was a most touch- 
ing occasion. "In one sense it was not a question of going 
home, but of leaving it. More than forty years had been 
spent in the mission house in Kuruman, where most of their 
children had been born. 

"For weeks the messages of farewell had been coming 
from the more distant towns and villages, and from those who 
were unable to come themselves. The final scene was one 
that could scarcely be described in words. As the old mis- 
sionary and his wife came out of their door and walked to 
their wagon, they were beset by the crowds, each longing for 
one more touch of the hand and one more word, and as the 
wagon drove away it was followed by all who could walk, 
and a long and pitiful wail arose, enough to melt the hardest 
heart." 

With great joy they were welcomed to England by their 
daughter Helen, who had not seen them for twenty-seven 
years. The following Christmas time Mary Moffat went to 
her heavenly home. 

Robert Moffat busied himself in the Lord's work as long 
as strength would permit, traveling in his native land and in 
France. He ended his earthly pilgrimage August 10, 1883, 
in his eighty-eighth year. 



JOHN NEWTON 



JOHN NEWTON was an English clerg)anan, born in 
London, England, July 24, 1 725. He had little school- 
ing, and as his father was master of a trading ship, the boy 
joined him at eleven, and sailed under him for six years. He 
was next impressed on board a man-of-war,, made midship- 
man, but was degraded and cruelly treated for attempting to 
escape. At Madeira he was allowed to exchange into an 
African trader, at Sierra Leone he joined an African slaver, 
and finally was sold to a negress. He sank so low that he 
fed on the crumbs from her table and on the raw yams he 
stole at night. He washed his single shirt in the ocean, hid- 
ing among the trees while it dried. When he escaped from 
his misery he went with the natives, fell in with their supersti- 
tions, and lived their degraded life. 

"He engaged in the slave trade on the coast of Africa, 
and was perhaps as hopelessly abandoned as any pirate who 
ever trod the deck of a slave-trader. But at last, when all 
hopes had nearly expired, his mother's ceaseless prayers were 
answered. He was converted, and finally he became one of 
the most eminent ministers in London. That man was the 
celebrated John Newton. 

"John Newton, in turn, was the instrument in opening the 
eyes of that moralist and skeptic, Thomas Scott, afterwards 
the distinguished author of the commentary on the Bible. 
Thomas Scott had in his parish a young man of the most deli- 
cate sensibilities, and whose soul was 'touched with the finest 
issues, but he was a dyspeptic, and sorrowful and despairing.* 

342 



John Newton 343 

At times he believed there was no hope for him. After long 
and repeated efforts, Dr. Scott persuaded him to change his 
course of life. That young man was William Cowper, the 
household Christian poet, whose stveet, delightful hymns have 
allured hundreds of wanderers, and the most polluted, to the 
'Fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel's veins.* 
"Among others whom he influenced to turn from the 'broad 
road' was William Wilber force, a distinguished member of 
the British Parliament, who gave the deathblow to the slave 
trade in Great Britain. Wilber force brought Leigh Rich- 
mond to see the 'better way', who wrote the 'Dairyman s 
Daughter', which has been read with the devoutest gratitude, 
through blinding tears, in many languages all over the earth. 
All this indescribable amount of good, which will be re- 
doubled and reduplicated through all time, can be traced back 
to the fidelity of John Newton's mother, that humble, unher- 
alded woman, whose history is almost unknown." 

But all Christendom sings his immortal hymns, some of 
which are "How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds"; "Quiet, 
Lord, My Froward Heart"; "Approach, My Soul, the Mercy 
Seat"; "One There is Above All Others"; "Come, My 
Soul, Thy Suit Prepare"; "Safely Through Another Week"; 
"Amazing Grace, How Sweet the Sound, that Saved a 
Wretch Like Me". 

He died in London, December 21, 1807. He wrote his 
own epitaph, which may be read on the wall of his church 
in London: 

"Sacred to the memory of JOHN NEWTON; 

once a libertine and blasphemer, and slave of slaves in Africa, 

but purified, renefved, pardoned, 

and appointed to preach that Gospel which he labored 

to destroy." 



FLORENCE' NIGHTENGALE 



FLORENCE NIGHTENGALE, an English noble- 
woman, was through all her life the friend of the poor, 
the weak, the sick, or unfortunate. She was of most delicate 
sensibilities, highly-trained intellect, purity of character, untir- 
ing patience and whole-hearted devotion to what she considered 
her life calling. 

When a little child, she might have been seen distributing 
alms among the poor, or providing comforts for the sick in 
humble cottages. Many a heavy heart was lightened, and 
aching brow soothed, by the touch of her gentle hand and sym- 
pathetic nature. 

She was born in Florence, Italy, in 1 820. Her father 
was a wealthy Englishman, Squire of Embly Park, Hamp- 
shire, and Lea Hurst, Derbyshire. Her education was quite 
complete in science, mathematics, literature and music. She 
acquired proficiency in using the English, German, French 
and Italian languages. 

Unwilling to abandon her life to the mere pursuit of her 
own happiness, and the flattering attentions of admiring 
friends, she early withdrew herself from the luxuries her wealth 
afforded. A great unrest possessed her. Life had a broader, 
deeper, nobler purpose to this fair and frail young woman. 
Her heart yearned to smooth the pillow of the suffering, and 
relieve the miseries of the sick. Gradually she found her true 
calling. 

344 



Florence Nightengale ' 345 

She visited the best hospitals in London, Dublin, Edin- 
burgh, Kaiserwerth, Berlin, Paris, Lyons, Rome, Alexandria, 
Constantinople and Brussels, examining their structures, man- 
agement, treatments of diseases, their perfections and defects. 
She enrolled as a nurse in Pastor Fliedner's Deaconess Hos- 
pital at Kaiserwerth, Germany, learning the whole system of 
nursing. 

In England, up to that time, nursing was done either by 
men or the most vulgar class of women, who doped their pa- 
tients with medicine and themselves with rum. They were not 
respected as a class, and their calling was despised. Hence it 
was considered a very unworthy and indelicate task to which 
Florence Nightengale devoted her young life. 

In a painting of Abraham Lincoln, he is represented as a 
tall, lank lad, pausing a while from his task of rail-splitting to 
study a few brief minutes in a book, and thinking to himself, 
*'ril get ready. The opportunity may come." 

Florence Nightengale felt confident that, in the providence 
of God, the opportunity would come to benefit mankind by 
her practical knowledge. So she spared no pains to prepare 
herself. 

From Kaiserwerth she went in training at Paris among the 
sisters. Love, not money, was the motive power in her labors. 
For Christ's sake she sacrificed herself to others. Those who 
consume all upon themselves miss true happiness in its very pur- 
suit. Those who lose their lives for Christ's sake find it again. 

In 1853 war, terrible, bloody, heart-rending, was waged 
by England and France against Russia. The Crimea became 
the scene of great horror, pestilence and blood-shed. The 
army hospitals were unsanitary, the nurses were unskilled men, 
and the appliances meager, so that many died from lack of 
proper care and food. The plea was sent home for trained 



346 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

minds and hands. Recuperating in her beautiful home, Flor- 
ence Nightengale heard the call, and answered, "Here am I, 
send me." 

Never had such a thing occurred before! Gentle-women 
nursing hundreds and thousands of wounded and dying! Many 
unjust jibes were hurled at Miss Nightengale and her thirty- 
eight picked nurses who went with her to the seat of war. 
They faithfully labored for tv^^o weary years. Sanitary con- 
ditions were improved; linen, food and medicines well pro- 
vided, and the rate of mortality steadily decreased, now that 
medical wisdom had skilled hands to execute its orders. Re- 
inforcements were sent as more nurses were needed, and the 
entire force was organized and governed by Miss Nightengale. 
From early morning until late at night she passed noiselessly 
trom one cot to another, giving needed aid and a cheering 
smile, pointing by word and example to her Savior, and clos- 
ing daily the eyes of the dead. 

Loved and respected by the soldiers far from home, her 
name became honored in every household in the homeland. 
Since that time, this sphere of usefulness for women has been 
unassailed and respected. When, after the war, she returned 
home to the loving bosom of her mother and friends, she was 
ever afterward an invalid. But even from her sick couch she 
directed institutions for the training of nurses. 

Queen Victoria publicly honored her. Everywhere the 
reliefs of the Red Cross associations testify to the patriotism, 
devotion and constancy of Christian womanhood. "It is still 
worth while to be a woman." 



ORIGEN 

< i /^RIGEN was the profoundest scholar of the early 
^^ Church. He was a learned critic, a diHgent exegete, 
one of the ablest apologists, the first great theologian. With a 
breadth of thought unsurpassed in the ages since, he laid the 
foundations for those definitions afterward formulated by the 
councils into creeds." 

He was born in Alexandria, A. D. 185. His parents 
were both Christians. His father, Leonidas, was a man of 
wealth and liberal education, who delighted to instruct his 
eager son in secular and sacred learning. When the lad was 
but seventeen years old, his father was apprehended during 
the Septimian persecutions and martyred for his faith. Origen 
strove to reach his father and die with him, and was only pre- 
vented by his mother hiding his clothes. Their property was 
all confiscated, and Origen now became the support of his 
widowed mother and his six brothers. He opened a school in 
philosophy, and instructed many young men, eight of whom 
were martyred. He zealously visited the martyrs in prison, 
and kissed them when led away to die. When but eighteen 
years old he was made sole instructor in a school opened by 
the Christians. 

He was a strenuous ascetic, denying himself by severe 
fasts; lived on twelve cents a day, an annuity received for sell- 
ing his copies of classical writings; refused voluntary contribu- 
tions of his friends; cut short his sleep, and even the brief 

347 



348 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

period of sleep he grudgingly gave himself he spent on the bare 
ground. He literally observed the instruction not to have two 
coats. He suffered poverty, cold, and all but nakedness. He 
devoted himself untiringly to study, acquiring the learning of 
the Greeks, also the Hebrew, in which his mother was his 
fellow-student. 

He visited Rome. He made two missionary journeys to 
Arabia. At the age of forty-three he visited Palestine; later, 
Ephesus, Athens and Caesarea. At Caesarea he was ordained, 
and for this was excommunicated by the Bishop of Alexan- 
dria. But his excommunication was disregarded by other 
bishops; also by the great and learned of his day, among 
whom he had many loyal friends and converts. Even em- 
perors and empresses received instructions from his lips or pen. 
His fame spread far and wide. He employed seven amanu- 
enses, who relieved each other as they became wearied by the 
indefatigable Origen. He also kept seven copyists of his own 
work. What remains of his Commentaries on the Scriptures 
form sixteen volumes. "All commentators have dug from his 
mine, and a very considerable part of what is valuable in 
them they owe to Origen." He was the greatest of Christian 
apologists, his *'Contra Celsus'' being unrivalled, and a mas- 
terly defense of the faith. His recension of the Greek version 
of the Old Testament was the greatest work of his life. It 
consists of six, and sometimes eight or nine, columns of parallel 
versions, with critical notes on each. His "Z)e Principiis' is 
the first independent attempt of a Christian thinker to form a 
system of theology. He was a very penetrating thinker, and 
no theological writer can escape dealing with the subjects he 
handles. There were two or three features of his theology 
which are not accepted now as orthodox. But he rendered 
the infant Church an enduring service in defending her against 



Origen 349 

false doctrines, and in aiding in the establishing of the canon 
of the New Testament. 

His purity of life, his ease and sweetness of spirit in the 
midst of unfavorable and frightful surroundings, his great 
thinking abilities, and his herculean labors as teacher and 
writer, have given him a pre-eminent place among the church 
fathers. 

He had removed to Caesarea before the Maximinian per- 
secution broke out. He at once published an oration concern- 
ing martyrdom to comfort the afflicted church. Eighteen 
years later the Decian persecution was raging. How Origen 
had escaped so long was a miracle of Divine protection. He 
was now an old man, full of labors and widely honored. His 
fame drew the attention of the persecutors, and he was appre- 
hended. He was tortured by the iron collar, immured in the 
deepest recesses of the prison, stretched for days upon the 
rack, and threatened with the burning stake, but he never 
faltered. His constancy would inspire hundreds of others to 
endure patiently the sufferings they were to undergo for Jesus* 
sake. The fury of the persecution spent itself, and the old 
man was released, but he never rallied from the extreme tor- 
tures he had endured. He received the martyr's crown in the 
year 254. 



MRS. PHOEBE PALMER 



MRS. PHOEBE PALMER and her husband, Dr. Pal- 
mer, are revered in the memory of many as pioneer 
teachers in the modern Holiness Movement in this country. 
For years their home in New York city was the assembly 
place of the Tuesday Holiness Meeting, where many from that 
city and all over the country inquired more perfectly of the 
way of full salvation. It is reported by living witnesses that 
the power of God was very manifest, and to a degree seldom 
realized in modern holiness services. That old-time, high- 
class anointing of the Holy Ghost, giving marked unction in 
testimony, and burden of soul in travail for others, may still 
be had by those who pay the price of radical separation from 
the world, and unbroken, prayer communion with the Lord. 

For a long time after her conversion Mrs. Palmer found 
her heart hungering for a deeper work of grace. Searching 
the Scriptures for light, she became convinced that "This is 
the will of God, even your sanctification" (1 Thess. 4: 3), 
and that "God hath not called us unto uncleanness but unto 
holiness" (1 Thess. 4: 7). She began to seek earnestly for 
the experience. When she finally saw that it was obtainable 
not by struggling, but by simply putting herself into the hands 
of the Lord, and believing His promises, she entered into that 
second rest which remains for the people of God. 

Concerning herself she writes: "Over and over again, pre- 
vious to the time mentioned, she had endeavored to give her- 

350 








Mrs. Phoebe Palmer 



Phoebe Palmer 353 

self away in covenant to God, but she had never, till this 
hour, deliberately resolved on counting the cost, with the sol- 
emn intention to 'reckon herself dead indeed to sin, but alive 
to God through Jesus Christ, our Lord' (Rom. 6: 11); to 
account herself permanently the Lord's, and, in truth, no more 
at her own disposal, but irrevocabl}) the Lord's property, for 
time and eternity. Now, in the name of the Lord Jehovah, 
after having deliberately counted the cost, she resolved to en- 
ter into the bonds of an everlasting covenant, with the fixed 
purpose to count all things hut loss for the excellency of the 
knowledge of Jesus, that she might know Him and the power 
of His resurrection, by being made conformable to His death, 
and raised to an entire newness of life." It became clear to 
her mind that, in thus putting her all upon Jesus Christ, her 
altar of sacrifice and atonement, the gift was accepted. A 
hallowed sense of acceptance and purity of heart took posses- 
sion of her, and thereafter she was marvelously used of God in 
teaching others the way into the holiest. 

Her dependence upon the Scriptures, and confidence in 
their safe guidance, are seen in these words: "Were I to live 
to be as old as Methuselah, and to be brought into the most 
perplexing circumstances anyone could be brought into, I 
should ever find the light and guidance I need in the Bible." 



\ 



ROBERT POLLOK 



ROBERT POLLOK is a name dear to Scotland and all 
the Christian world. Amid the sacred evergreens of 
Scottish muse his holy canticle holds an unrivaled place as a 
national religious poem. Indeed, his immortal poem belongs 
not alone to Scotland. Its subject, the Destiny^ of Man, is 
fraught with the liveliest interest for all people of every clime. 
His poem is worthy of at least equal honor with Milton's im- 
mortal poem. Paradise Lost. His theme is Divine, and his 
style is independent of the usual bondage of epic writers to 
pagan gods and heathen customs. Pollok, too, was learned 
in all the ancient classics, but this is not the paramount im- 
pression produced by *'The Course of Time.** 

"Pollok essayed to wake the harp of holy men of old, 
and the music of his song has been felt through the Christian 
world. As we follow him through his literary course, we find 
him either in company with the great departed master-minds 
of time, or standing amid the martyr haunts of Scotland, com- 
muning with Heaven. He seems like an angel in the pursuit 
of knowledge." 

The Rev. Robert Pollok was born at Muirhouse, parish 
of Eaglesham, Scotland, October 1 9, 1 798, and died Sep- 
tember 18, 1827, near Southampton, in his twenty-ninth year. 
He assisted in the work of the farm and attended the village 
school. From the parish school of Fenwick, he was admitted 

354 




Robert Pollok 



Robert Pollok 357 

to the University of Glasgow, where he attended five years and 
received the degree of Master of Arts at the age of twenty- 
two. He was a diligent and exemplary student, and obtained 
several prizes. A fall in an athletic race injured his chest, 
and likely produced the consumption from which he died at so 
early a date. 

Educated minds become a moral center of wide influence. 
They give birth to thoughts which otherwise would never have 
an existence. Their thoughts are as stars illuminating the realm 
of thought for their fellows and succeeding generations. Pol- 
lok's mind teemed with brilliant thoughts. He brought forth 
intellectual fruitage every day. His discourses are described 
as profound, eloquent, brilliant with poetical imagery, combined 
with metaphysical acuteness and admirable reasoning. His 
theological studies were pursued at Divinity Hall, in the semi- 
nary of the United Secession church, in Glasgow. After fin- 
ishing his course, receiving license to preach, and addressing 
the public four times, his voice on earth was hushed. But he 
still speaks by his immortal poem. 

Its theme had been maturing in his mind for many years. 
He declared it embodied the theology of his sainted mother. 
Its writing occupied nineteen months of close application, such 
as only hard brain workers are able to appreciate. For five 
weeks he wrote about five hundred lines daily. His health 
was failing; fever was consuming his wasting strength. But 
he pressed on toward the goal. His years of schooling left 
him in close financial straits. He had no funds with which 
to publish his poem, but gave it into the hands of the publisher 
on condition that he receive the copyright and one-half of the 
profits. Its happy reception by the public was a cause of grati- 
fication, and immediately many noted and wealthy persons 
came forward to do him honor and service. A trip to Italy 



358 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

for the recovery of his health was proposed, planned, and the 
money furnished. He went as far as Southampton with his 
sister, but was unable to proceed further. 

The time of his departure was at hand. The shadow of 
death was falling. Soon he would be singing the song of 
Moses and the Lamb. The Bible was the only book of which 
he spoke or read. Standing on the brink of time, tTie grave 
had no terrors for him. He spent much of the time in prayer 
and communion with God. The mystic drapery hanging be- 
tween time and eternity seemed almost transparent. "There 
is some great mystery connected with the soul's unrobing which 
the living have never fathomed." Shortly before his soul flitted 
away he sat up and prayed audibly in bed. "He died with 
great assurance and serenity of soul." 

Following is his description of hell, the abode of lost 
spirits : 

"Wide was the place, 
And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep. 
Beneath, I saw a lalie of burning fire, 
With tempest tost perpetually ; and still 
The waves of fiery darkness 'gainst the rocks 
Of dark damnation broke, and music made 
Of melancholy sort ; and overhead, 

And all around, wind warred with wind, storm howled 
To storm, and lightning, forked lightning crossed. 
And thunder answered thunder, muttering sounds 
Of sullen wrath ; and far as sight could pierce. 
Or down descend in caves of hopeless depth, 
Thix)ugh all that dungeon of unfading fire, 
I saw most miserable beings walk, 
Burning continually, yet unconsumed ; 
Forever wasting, yet enduring still ; 
Dying perpetually, yet never dead. 
Some wandered lonely in the desert flames, 



Robert Pollok 359 

And some in fell encounter fiercely met, 

With curses loud, and blasphemies that made 

The cheek of Darkness pale ; and as they fought, 

And cursed, and gnashed their teeth, and wished to die, 

Their hollow eyes did utter streams of woe. 

And there were groans that ended not, and sighs 

That always sighed, and tears that ever wept, 

And ever fell, but not in Mercy's sight. 

And Sorrow, and Repentance, and Despair, 

Among them walked, and to their thirsty lips 

Presented frequent cups of burning gall. 

And as I listened^ I heard these beings curse 

Almighty God, and curse the Lamb, and curse 

The earth, the resurrection morn, and seek 

And ever vainly seek for utter death. 

And to their everlasting anguish still 

The thunders from above responding spoke 

These words, which, through the caravans of perdition 

Forlornly echoing, fell on every ear : 

'Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not.' " 



T 



JOHN REDFIELD 



AMONG those engaged in the Lord's service in a pubHc 
way are ( 1 ) those who esteem the office very highly, 
and gladly obey the call when first given. The work grows 
on their hands and engrosses all their being. (2) Those who 
cire reluctant, either from an overwhelming sense of unfitness 
or a secret rebellion, so that they do not swing out without the 
lash of conviction and Providence almost compelling them to 
do so. Redfield was of the latter class. From his childhood 
up, John Wesley Redfield was strongly impressed that the 
Lord called him to the ministry. He studiously contended 
against the conviction. He concealed his feelings, and avoided 
conversation on the subject. 

When between the ages of thirteen and fourteen, alarming 
conviction of sin took possession of him. He thought there 
was no hope. He became a seeker at a nearby camp-meeting 
of the old style. In his heart he rebelled against loud and 
vociferous praying, and intended to get through without it. 
But he noticed that those who went at it heart and soul, and 
prayed as loud as their feelings of conviction would warrant, 
were getting the victory, while his own soul was unblest. So 
at last he decided to lay aside his fastidious tastes, and cried 
aloud, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." His pride was 
humbled, and he determined to take the narrow way at any 
cost. Then he went to the woods. Here he made the neces- 
sary venture of faith, and before he realized what he was do- 

360 



■'X.„ 




John Redfield 



John Redfield 363 

ing, he was on his feet shouting, * 'Glory to God!'* On the 
way home he prayed with relatives and friends. Later he was 
rejoiced to learn that one whole family had been converted. 
He set up the family altar in his father's home, and was blest 
in visiting from house to house. 

A minister and Redfield's mother desired him to attend an 
academy, and he discerned that they were intending him for 
the ministry. All his old abhorrence came back upon him. 
The responsibility of the calling seemed to overwhelm him. 
Even in the days of his later great success, he lost his appetite 
when the burden of preaching was upon him, and he underwent 
the keenest mental suffering. 

He took up work with an artist; he also fitted himself for 
the medical profession. Whenever he obeyed God, and fol-. 
lowed his clearest leading, the Holy Spirit put His seal upon 
the young man in a remarkable way, and revivals attended his 
labors. Some man of God or woman of prayer would provi- 
dentially cross his path cind interrogate him as to God's purpose 
in his life. His saintly mother prayed, and pined to see her 
son out in God's service, and died without her desire being 
gratified. 

Finally, in his rebellion, he married very unhappily. His 
wife was as incapable as a child to cook or keep house, and 
would make no effort to learn. She was a spendthrift in her 
habits, and so impetuous and full of notions as to indicate 
that she was mentally unbalanced. Her conduct with other 
men was so scandalous that they could not get boarding for 
longer than one or two weeks at a place, and so had to move 
about from town to town. Again and again she left him to 
return to her parents, forging some scandal about him. Neither 
her parents nor Mr. Redfield could manage her. His re- 



364 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

morse and shame were indescribable. After several years of 
this miserable life he refused to receive her back to him. 

His fears of losing his soul reached such a pitch that 
he promised to obey the Divine call. Immediately rest came 
to his troubled soul. He preached a few^ times, and again 
shrank from the responsibility. Also the constant fear of his 
wife's return, and the scandal of her life shadowing him, re- 
strained him. Finally a severe illness brought him to the verge 
of the grave. He seemed to be in the last stages of consump- 
tion. In turning to the Lord for help, the Spirit seemed to 
say, "Live while you preach.'* He again renewed his vows, 
and rest of mind cind health of body returned. Soon he was 
asked to supply pulpits, calls for revival work multiplied, and 
everywhere he went God manifested His presence in a mar- 
velous way. Frequently he would groan as if in the throes of 
death as he wrestled in prayer; then victory would come, peo- 
ple shouted and shrieked, prayed and confessed; many lost 
their strength, and did not regain it until they promised obedi- 
ence to God. 

He earnestly sought and obtained the experience of holi- 
ness. Thereafter he preached holiness explicitly and forcibly 
everywhere he went. This aroused great opposition, but it 
also brought results. Dead churches were revived, new ones 
were built, the sick were healed, and the holiness movement 
in the M. E. church gained good headway. It had been a 
dead letter in the discipline. Now heralds of the truth arose, 
and many eager souls, under their direction, came and satis- 
fied their long-standing thirst for the living water. In many 
places the lifting up of the standard against card-playing, danc- 
ing, worldly dress, and the wearing of jewelry cut right and 
left. Preachers' wives and families were not spared. 

Opposition waxed strong against these flaming evangels 



John Redfield . 365 

who dared to denounce slavery in no uncertain way, to arouse 
professing Christians from their lukewarmness and backslid- 
ing, and to put the standards of Christian living where the 
Bible does, and call the people to come up to it or lose their 
souls. Several preachers — notably B. T. Roberts and others 
— ^were censured by their conferences, not for einy wrong- 
doing, but through the malicious efforts of opposers to holiness. 
They were expelled, and the reproach left upon them. This 
left them to their own resources and the Divine leading. Ac- 
cordingly, the Free Methodist Church was organized in 1 860, 
with B. T. Roberts and John Redfield as its leading spirits. 
It still lives up to its initial calling of spreading Scriptural 
holiness over these lands. 

His sensitive soul suffered much from the harsh criticisms 
and unreasonable opposition of carnal men receiving fat sala- 
ries in their man-pleasing ministry. Add to this natural 
shrinking from the responsibilities of the ministry, the crosses 
brought upon him by preaching holiness to gainsaying people, 
and his keen family sorrows, and we see in him one who, under 
the discipline of the Lord, became a matured, well-mellowed 
saint, and a man mighty in the pulpit. 

Shortly afterward Mr. Redfield was stricken with par- 
alysis, probably brought on by over-exertion in the work of 
the Lord and the strain of the recent anxieties. Gradually he 
regained enough strength to take up the work he now loved so 
dearly. But the Divine plan was that the work so nobly begun 
should be continued in other hands, and three years later, in 
1863, at Marengo, 111., the second stroke of paralysis came. 
He lay unconscious until the next day, when he joined the 
Church triumphant. 



c. 



PUNDITA RAMABAI 



WE marvel at the executive ability, the brilliant intellect, 
the spiritual power, the blessed achievements of this 
noble Christian woman, when we consider that she was born 
in the jungles of western India, within sound of the cry of the 
tiger, in a land where womanhood is degraded and despised, 
uneducated and unloved, living in seclusion and suffering, the 
innocent and helpless victim of her lords and masters, the other 
sex. 

Her father was wealthy, wise, and religious. He wished 
to educate his child wife of nine years. Hence he removed to 
the jungle, where he could pursue his plans unmolested. Here 
his wife grew to maturity, and was educated, and here Rama- 
bai was born. Soon after, the family started traveling from 
one shrine to another, worshiping heathen gods, and for a liv- 
ing reading aloud the sacred Puranas. In the cool of the 
early mornings, before the wanderings of the day began, the 
loving mother taught her children, so that when Ramabai was 
but twelve years old she could repeat eighteen thousand verses 
of the Purans, and almost unconsciously had acquired Mara- 
thi, Kanarese, Hindustani and Bengali. 

Famine was abroad in the land. The little family suffered 
for food and water, and finally the father, mother, and sister 
died of hardship and starvation. Bare-footed, poorly-clad, 
often without food for several days, Ramabai and her brother 
continued their weary journeying, sometimes shielding them- 

366 




WMi 



PUNDITA RaMABAI 



PUNDITA RaMABAI 36^ 

selves from the night's cold by digging in the sand and cover- 
ing their bodies. They devoted themselves to worshiping idols, 
hoping to win reward and wealth, but in vain. 

Where they could, they lectured, espousing the cause oi 
women and child-widows. A slender girl of twenty-two, she 
spoke fluently in seven languages, and acquired a reputation for 
her learning. In Calcutta she married. Her husband died 
after nineteen months, leaving her a little girl. 

She determined to devote herself to the rescue of child- 
widows. In preparation for this work, she went to England, 
then to America. All this time she had hungered for the true 
God, but found Him not. But when she saw the blessedness 
of Christian lives, and their love for others, she yielded to the 
only true God, was baptized and confirmed. "Her keen wit, 
and pathos, her intellectual brilliancy, her enthusiastic devo- 
tion, aroused all hearts and kindled enthusiasm.*' 

Her first home for child-widows was opened in Bombay 
in 1 889, and opened with two pupils. It was called Sharada 
Sadan — abode of widows. Soon it enlarged to one hundred 
and seventy-eight widows, ranging in age from five years to 
forty. Rescued from lives of hardship, shame and abuse, their 
hearts were responsive to the warm, sympathetic atmosphere of 
the Christian school. They were allowed to retain their Hindu 
customs and religion if they desired. Of course, most of them 
as they became enlightened, and learned what Christianity 
does for womanhood, found their inheritance in Jesus Christ. 
"And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me." Praise 
the Lord ! 

**To increase the revenue of the school, she bought one 
hundred acres of land at Kedgaon, planting half with fruit 
trees and half with fruitful crops. While her outward activi- 
ties were increasing, her spiritual life was deepening and grow- 



370 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ing richer. She longed to do more for Christ. The famine 
of 1897 gave her the coveted opportunity. Going herself to 
the famine district, she gathered three hundred, whom she es- 
tablished at Kedgaon in tents, calling the settlement Mukti, 
and giving up her own salary for its support. 

"The famine of 1899-1900 offered means of reaching 
still more; gaunt, enfeebled, afflicted with loathsome disease, 
the result of starvation, they were nursed back to health with 
tenderest care. Ramabai did not rest until one thousand five 
hundred were brought into the compound." The other home 
was transfered to Kedgaon. 

*'In all that great community of two-thousand souls, Ram- 
abai is the center of life, the power-house. Her head plans it 
all, her hand is on every wheel, her heart reaches out in love 
to encompass each one in that throng." She plans farm- work 
and fruit raising, makes contracts, superintends the building, ar- 
ranges the school-room classes, translates kindergarten songs, 
writes church hymns and does evangelistic work. 

*'When she entered the room — that little white-robed fig- 
ure — one could feel a thrill of consciousness pass through all 
that assembly as it recognized the presence of a great person- 
ality. A single word from her, a single syllable, could set the 
room ablaze, or hush it into silence. She is really one of the 
most commanding and extraordinary women of her time." 

Her devotion to Christ, her life of communion in the heav- 
enlies, her deepening knowledge of things Divine, her passion 
for the uplift and true salvation of the neglected, saddened, ig- 
norant and pitiful child-widows, make her personality and life- 
work throb with Divine energy, and she has her reward in 
seeing them become happy, beautiful, educated and useful 
Christian women. And think of the eternal reward awaiting 
her journey's end. 




Hester Ann Rogers 



HESTER ANN ROGERS 



AN old-fashioned name, you say, for a sweet baby girl, 
born January 31, 1756, m Macclesfield, Cheshire, 
England. 

Well trained by a pious father, a clergyman in the Church 
of England, and by an exacting mother, Hester Ann Roe 
grew to greatly reverence the Lord, to be scrupulous in her 
conduct, and to pray earnestly. Family prayer daily, and a 
strict observance of the Sabbath, were the rules in their home. 
When she was nine years old her father called her to his bed- 
side, commended her to God's tender care, warned her against 
ever participating in dancing, novel-reading, and other popu- 
lar sins of the day. A few days later he died of a malignant 
fever. 

After this, as she grew into beautiful womeuihood, she 
was greatly admired. Her mother now let her be taught to 
dance, attend plays, read novels, and give herself up to vani- 
ties and pleasure-seeking. 

She entered the church by confirmation when she was 
thirteen years old, was serious for a time, would fast and pray, 
take the Lord's Supper, resolve, and break resolutions, and 
again be found in her old sins. "Dress, novels, plays, cards, 
assemblies and balls took up most of my time, so that my 
mother began to fear the consequences of my living so much 
above my station in life. But I would not now listen to her 
admonitions. I loved pleasures, and after them I would go. 

373 



374 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

What increased my vanity and pride was, that I was much 
beloved by my god-mother, a lady of very considerable for- 
tune, and often spent most of the summer months with her at 
Adlington, where I was treated as if she intended to bestow a 
handsome fortune on me. She introduced me into the com- 
pany of those in high life, and enabled me by large presents 
to dress in a manner suitable to such company. Oh, how fatal 
in general are such prospects to a young mind! Yet, in all 
this, I still wished to preserve a religious appearance. I still 
frequented church emd sacraments, still prayed night and morn- 
ing, fasted sometimes, especially in Lent, and because I did 
these things, esteemed myself a far better Christian than my 
neighbors.*' 

Rumors were afloat concernng the new sect — Methodists 
— and the most odious dislike for them possessed her mind. 
She believed Methodist preachers were false prophets, o* 
which Scripture told. As in these days, people formed their 
opinions not by candid investigation, but by mere hearsay. 
Upon her return home, she found Mr. Simpson, their new 
curate, to be a so-called Methodist, and she resolved he should 
not convert her. He preached against dancing. So she de- 
liberately found what arguments she could to favor dancing. 
The examples of dancing in the Scriptures were Miriam, David 
and Herod's daughter. But, to her dismay, the first two 
danced singly, and in expression of holy joy. Herod's daugh- 
ter was a heathen, and her obscene dance resulted in the death 
of John the Baptist. So she could find in Scripture no pre- 
cedent for the modern sexual debauchery called the dance. 
Neither could she prove it to be a healthful exercise, but quite 
the contrary. She saw that those who relish such pleasures 
lose all relish for spiritual things. Yet she resolved to run all 
risks, rather than give up dancing. She stifled all convictions. 



Hester Ann Rogers 375 

and ran more eagerly than ever after all pleasurable follies. 
However, she began reading histories instead of novels. Mr. 
Simpson's sermons sank with deeper weight into her heart, as 
he spoke of the loss of the soul, the necessity of the new birth, 
etc. In addition to worldly pleasures, a strong affection for a 
young man prevented her giving up to the Divine will. She 
fought conviction for a long time. The last assembly she at- 
tended she hid her misery of soul by gaiety of manner, and 
danced, without once sitting down, until four o'clock in the 
morning. 

One Sabbath, as the preacher spoke from John 6:44, *'No 
man can come to me except the Father draw him,'* she wept 
aloud in her anguish of soul, and no longer concealed her 
heavy weight of conviction. *'I went home, ran upstairs, and 
fell on my knees, and made a solemn vow to renounce and for- 
sake all my sinful pleasures and trifling companions. I slept 
none that night, but rose early next morning, and, without tell- 
ing my mother, took all my finery, high-dressed caps, etc., 
and ripped them all up, so that I could wear them no more; 
then cut my hair short, that it might not be in my own power 
to have it dressed, and in the most solemn manner vowed never 
to dance again! I could do nothing now but bewail my own 
sinfulness and cry for mercy. I could not eat or sleep or take 
any comfort. The curses throughout the whole Bible seemed 
pointed all at me. I could not claim a single promise." 

Oh, for more of this old-time, arousing conviction, with 
its hearty and absolute abandonment of sin, its turning to the 
Lord so completely that the bridges are burned behind, leav- 
ing no provision for retreat. Notice her disgust with her pride 
of heart, and her thorough obedience to the Spirit by ceasing 
to adorn herself with fancy or costly array, and combing her 
hair in a modest fashion. See the injunctions of Scripture on 



376 Men and Wowen of Deep Piety 

this important matter: "In like manner that women adorn 
themselves in modest apparel, with shame facedness and so- 
briety; not with broidered hair and gold or pearls and costly 
array; but which becometh women professing godliness, with 
good works." I Timothy 2:9, 10. "Whose adorning let 
it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of 
wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel, but let it be 
the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, 
even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the 
sight of God of great price." I Peter 3: 3, 4. 

She continued seeking God. Her mother and friends 
thought she was losing her mind, and vainly tried to comfort 
her. She received some relief in taking communion, but feared 
to be presumptious, and did not assert her faith. She had not 
yet attended a strictly Methodist meeting, so now she went at 
five in the morning to a Methodist preaching service. She was 
convinced they were truly the Lord's people. From that time 
she resolved to attend Methodist services, though her mother 
was horrified and disgusted. The intervention of an uncle pre- 
vented the irate mother from turning her daughter out of doors. 
"Yet what I suffered, sometimes through her tears and en- 
treaties, and at other times her severity, is known only to God. 
But He strengthened a feeble worm, and enabled me, with 
all meekness, to endure as seeing Him who is invisible. For 
eight weeks I was closely confined. My godmother came to 
me; so did my mother's brother, and my father's sister; also 
a clergyman, and several others, but the Lord gave me a 
mouth and wisdom. In August my mother took me with her 
to Adlington, on our usual summer visit, though now quite 
contrary to my inclination. Though I believe she hoped to 
wean me from what she called my melancholy and enthusiasm, 
yet the Lord kept me steadfast and immovable. I left all 



Hester Ann Rogers 377 

company many times a day to retire in secret. I refused to 

conform in dress, or anything my conscience disapproved. In 

a little time, finding all their efforts vain, they began to leave 

me to myself. Only I was made to understand I had now 

nothing to expect from my godmother as to temporal things. 

This, however, weighed nothing with me, as all my language 

was: 

"None but Christ to me be given, 
None but Christ in earth or Heaven." 

**In October we returned home, and I now reasoned with 
my mother, telling her, in humility yet plainness, I must seek 
the salvation of my soul, whatever the consequences. I am 
therefore determined to leave you, and go to be a servant, 
rather than be kept from the Methodists. Yet, if you will 
consent to it, I should greatly prefer continuing in your house, 
though it should be as your servant, and I am willing to under- 
take all the work of the house if you will only sufFer me to 
attend preaching." She listened to her daughter's proposals, 
fully believing the heavy housework, to which her delicate 
frame was unaccustomed, would soon outdo her zeal, and she 
would give up all her resolutions. But not so. She entered 
upon her work joyfully, and hope revived that soon she would 
enter into God's clear favor. How few professors of a high 
state of grace would endure half so much for Jesus' sake! 

She continued groaning and praying for salvation. Aris- 
ing one morning at four, she wrestled again. Though Satan 
buffeted, she pressed through to believing ground, crying, **0, 
show me how to believe. O, teach me; help me or I am lost." 
Such promises as "Cast all thy care upon him for he careth for 
thee," **Fear not, only believe," and *'Come unto me, all ye 
that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest," 
came with sweet help to her heart, and she ventured her all 



378 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

into a Savior's tender keeping. **My sins were gone, my soul 
was happy, and I longed to depart and be with Christ. I 
was truly a new creature, and seemed to be in a new world. 
I could do nothing but love and praise my God. My mother 
was astonished at the change which appeared in my counte- 
nance and whole deportment. Now, said I, I am repaid a 
thousand times for all I have suffered. My words and flowing 
tears made her weep, but she said little, being all wonder.'* 

With joy Hester performed the most servile duties, though 
she could neither eat nor drink for many days and nights. 
The Word of God was sweeter than honey or the honey- 
comb. 

Six months later her cousin, Robert Roe, stopped on his 
way to college. He beheld her with astonishment, always 
happy and rejoicing, toiling hard, her pride in the dust, her 
soul sunk in humility. He passed on, with his own heart so 
hungry that he wrote to her, inquired the way of salvation, 
and found blessed peace. His father disowned him because 
he would not return to his former worldly life. However, the 
father repented on his death-bed, and likely found salvation. 
The young man remained true to his Lord, and also received 
his share of the estate. It always pays to take the way of 
the cross. After a few beautiful years in the Methodist min- 
istry, Robert Roe passed on to his reward, and heaven's rec- 
ords will show that the holy life and good counsel of his 
cousin, Hester Ann Roe, was the happy instrument of his 
salvation and sanctification. 

About seven months after she undertook to be servant to 
her mother the latter took a fever, and, when recovering, took 
a relapse which threatened to be fatal. The six weeks of heavy 
strain was too much for Hester's frail body, and for a long 
time she herself seemed walking on the rim of a consumptive's 



Hester Ann Rogers 379 

grave. Upon the Intercession of friends, she was relieved from 
her work. Having stood the furnace flame, outward opposi- 
tion began to abate. 

Conviction for entire sanctification now began to dawn 
upon her. Remains of anger, pride, self-will, and unbelief 
brought heaviness and sorrow, and she began to cry for deliv- 
erance. The witness of the Spirit was still hers, and blessed 
answers to prayers were given. She hoped by fasting and 
prayer to mortify the carnal nature. Though the process re- 
duces the body, it does not destroy the old man. She seemed 
far gone in consumption, and an early grave near. The pros- 
pect of heaven was very delightful, and she did not care to 
get well. But she found that entire renunciation meant to 
have no choice of her own, leaving every change to Divine 
management. When able to attend preaching again, she 
learned that sanctification, like justification, was an instan- 
taneous work wrought by the Holy Ghost, in answer to faith 
in the Savior's merits. Good reading also helped to enlighten 
her. The Scripture promises, in all their fulness, opened 
to her. 

We transcribe from her diary: **On the morning of Feb- 
ruary 22, I awoke poorly in body, and felt a strange hard- 
ness on my heart, and a great backwardness to private prayer. 
Satan told me if I prayed it would be only a solemn mockery. 
But I cried, 'Lord, help me!* and fell instantly on my knees. 
My intercourse was now opened with my Beloved, and various 
promises presented to my believing view. Shall I ask now 
small blessings only of my God? *Lord, make this the moment 
of my full salvation. Baptize me now with the Holy Ghost 
and fire of pure love. Now enter Thy temple, and cast out 
sin forever.* But here Satan raised all his force of tempta- 
tions to oppose me. But I cried, *Lord, I cannot stand those 



380 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

trials without it. Lord, Thou art faithful, and this is Thy 
word. I cast my whole soul upon Thy promise. I venture 
my soul upon Thy veracity. Thou can si not deny. I do be- 
lieve this moment Thou dost save. My soul is delivered of 
her burden. I am emptied of all. I take hold of Thee as 
my fulness! Everything that I want, Thou art! Thou art 
wisdom, strength, love, holiness; yes. Thou art mine! I am 
conquered and subdued by love. Thy love sinks me into 
nothing; it overflows my soul. O my Jesus, Thou art all in 
all! In Thee I behold and feel all the fulness of the God- 
head mine. I am now one with God. Sin, — inbred sin — 
no longer hinders the close communion, and God is all my 
own.' O, the depth of solid peace my soul now felt! It was 

"The sacred awe that dares not move, 
And all the silent Heaven of love." 

She now walked in the unclouded light of His countenance. 
Her victory had not been obtained without earnest seeking, 
contention for the faith, confession of carnality zind prevailing 
prayer. 

Insight into her daily walk with the Lord is given by her 
spiritual diary: 

"Sun. 25. Glory be to God for the best Sabbath I ever 
knew! My body was so very weak and poorly I could not 
go to preaching, but the Lord was with me, and gave me fresh 
discoveries of my own emptiness and poverty, and of His 
abundant fulness. 

"Thur. 29. I was so happy that I could not sleep in the 
night. O, what deep communion did my soul enjoy with 
God! It was a foretaste of heaven itself. O, my blessed 
Lord, I rejoice that I am Thy purchased property, and not 
my own; and to Thee I gladly yield body, soul and spirit. 



Hester Ann Rogers 381 

"March 5. For some days it has been a season of out- 
ward trials with me. But I have enjoyed fellowship with 
Caod and great inward comforts. I have ever found, B?/ien 
He gives peculiar grace. He permits it to be tried; but I prove, 
*as my day, so is my strength.' Yes, glory to His name alone, 
I am more than conqueror! I feel it the constant language 
of my heart: 

"No cross, no suffering I decline, 
Only let all my heart be Tbine." 

August 19, 1784, she was married to Mr. James Rogers, 
a Methodist preacher, whose first wife had been her most in- 
timate friend. She became to him a very efficient helpmeet, a 
most excellent class-leader, a tactful and successful personal 
worker in the vineyard of the Lord. Wherever they went, 
the churches were built up in numbers and spirituality. She 
was indeed a mother in Israel. The old-fashioned, close class- 
meeting was one of the mighty instruments of early Method- 
ism, blest of the Lord to lead many inquiring souls into salva- 
tion, and in guiding converts on to holiness and into most fruit- 
ful lives of prayer and devotion. Cards of admission were 
given to such as were saved or showed a serious concern for 
their souls. The class-leader took a personal interest in each 
soul under his care, guiding and counseling them faithfully. A 
church-membership would be divided into classes of about 
thirty each. Each class was met weekly by the leader, who 
questioned them personally of their state of victory, and ad- 
monished each one fittingly. It was Mr. Rogers* custom to 
give his wife a run-down class, let her labor until it was too 
large to do the best, then divide them, and give them to other 
leaders, letting his wife start over again. In this way she be- 
came a blessing to many souls. 

Her maternal care and affection shone equally bright. 



382 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Though she devoted much of her time to religious duties in pub- 
lic and private, yet nothing seemed to be left undone which 
could make her children comfortable and happy. She even 
prevented all their wants, and was equally — nay, if it were 
possible, more — attentive to Mr. Rogers* children by his former 
wife than to her own. 

Her married life was beautiful, and her husband felt in- 
deed stricken when, October 10, 1 794, shortly after giving 
birth to a baby boy, she departed to receive her reward in a 
land where sorrow, sighing and parting are no more. Seven 
children lamented their loss. She died in her thirty-ninth year. 

Her diary is the account of twenty years of unbroken walk 
with God. Her intimacy with the Lord may be seen from the 
following transcriptions: 

*'At preaching this morning I was so overcome with the 
love and exceeding glory of my triune God that I sunk down, 
unable to support it! It was long before I could stand or 
speak! All this day I have been lost in depths of love unutter- 
able! At the love feast I was again overwhelmed with His 
immediate presence! All around me is God! 

*'At the prayer-meeting my body was quite overcome for 
half an hour, so did my Lord unfold His fulness of love to 
my soul. I seemed as in the presence of His glory, confounded 
and overwhelmed with a sense of His purity and justice. His 
grace and love, and was constrained to lie at His feet in speech- 
less adoration and humblest praise. My body was covered 
with a cold sweat, and all around thought I was dying. Well 
mightest Thou say, O most adorable Savior, "No man can see 
my face and live,** for when Thou displayest only one faint 
ray, one glimpse of Thy glorious presence, this frail taber- 
nacle is ready to crumble into dust before Thee! But O, I 
shall one day be capable of beholding Thee face to face- 



Hester Ann Rogers 383 

These eyes shall see Thy glory, and gaze forever in ecstatic 
bliss! Now this corruptible clay cannot support itself under 
the weight of Thy love; but then it shall have put on incorrup- 
tion, and be able to enjoy the full and eternal fruition of Thy 
glory. 

"Afterward I passed through scenes of close trial (for 
which the Lord had thus been preparing me), and for a sea- 
son had not those peculiar manifestations. But His grace was 
sufficient, and He brought me through waves and clouds and 
storms unhurt. To Him be glory forever and forever.'* 

The following is a poem found among her papers, most 
likely written in premonition of her near death: 

"My hour is come, and angels round me wait, 
To take me to their glorious, happy state; 
Where, free from sickness, death, and every pain, 
I shall with God in endless glory reign. 

"Transporting thought! Thou dearest man, adieu! 
I feel no sorrow but in leaving you ; 
O thou, my comfort, thought and only care, 
In these last words thy kindness I'll declare. 

"In truth, in constancy, in faithful love, 

Few could you equal, none superior prove; 
Compelled by frequent sickness to complain. 
You strove to lessen and to assuage my pain. 

"More I would say my gratitude to own. 

But breath forsakes me, and my pulse is gone. 
Adieu, dear man! O, spare 
This flood of grief, and of thy health take care. 

"My blessing to my babes ; thou wilt be kind 
To the dear infants whom I leave behind ; 
Train them to virtue, piety and ti'uth, 

And form their manners early in their youth. 

"Farewell to all who now on me attend. 

The faithful servant, and the weeping friend ; 
The time is short till we shall meet again, 

With Christ, to share the glories of His reign." 



AMANDA SMITH 



AMANDA BERRY, bom at Long Green, Maryland, 
January 23, 1837, was the oldest of nine children, five 
of whom were born in slavery. Her father, mother and grand- 
mother were good Christians, and not so ignorant or degraded 
by their servile state as the most of the black race were. 

Miss Celie, the daughter of Mr. Berry's mistress, became 
soundly converted. Soon after, she was on her death-bed. 
At her request, Mr. Berry was granted the privilege of buying 
himself and family free. To do this he labored hard, work- 
ing in fields until two o'clock at night, or making brooms. 
Being trustworthy, he was allowed meager wages by his mis- 
tress. In time he redeemed all his family. Amanda in later 
years used to say she had more reason to shout than other 
folks, because she was bought twice and set free twice. The 
excellent qualities of character seen in her father re-appeared 
in his oldest daughter. 

The Bible was read every Sunday in their cabin, and the 
voice of prayer was often heard. Amanda's education began 
when she was eight years old, but her continuance at school 
was very limited. Hard work from childhood up was her 
unvaried lot. At a revival meeting she was blessedly con- 
verted. But she was timid, and her faith weak. Moreover, 
because of her color, the class-leader made her wait until last 
to testify. This made her too late to prepare her mistress' 

384 




Amanda Smith 



Amanda Smith . 387 

dinner, so she had to give up about the only means of grace 
there was to help her, and the result was she backslid. 

Reading a book of infidel arguments was poison to her 
young mind, and her heart was hardened. 

Through the unfaithfulness of an aunt, Amanda's sister 
Frances was sold into slavery. Though earning only six dol- 
lars per month, Amanda undertook the redemption of her sis- 
ter. Having found $300 and returned it to the owner, she 
was given a reward of $50. So the debt was paid, and her 
sister set free. 

When not yet eighteen years old she was married to Mr. 
Devine. One of their two children lived. He was a drink- 
ing man, who made life quite unpleasant. He went away to 
the war, and never returned. 

When upon a sick-bed, a dream or vision was the cause 
of her again turning to the Lord. She went to an altar, but 
did not find peace. Strong willed, she clung to her own pride 
and plans. After long fasting and praying, in desperation she 
one day did her work well, then went to the cellar to pray. 
Weary, tossed and buffeted by the enemy, she looked to the 
Lord and said: "Oh, Lord, if Thou wilt help me, I will be- 
lieve Thee." And in the act of telling God she would believe, 
she did believe. "Oh, the peace and joy that flooded my 
soul! The burden rolled away, and a flood of light and joy 
swept through my soul. I sprang to my feet; all around was 
light. I was new. I looked at my hands, they looked new. 
I took hold of myself and said, 'Why, I am new; I am new 
all over.' I ran out of the cellar. I walked up and down 
the kitchen floor. There seemed to be a halo of light all over 
me. I went into the dining-room and looked into the mirror 
to see if anything had transpired in my color. I cried, 'Halle- 
lujah, I have got religion! I have got religion! Glory to 



388 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

God!' This witness of God's Spirit to my conversion has 
been what has held me amid all the storms of temptation and 
trial that I have passed through." 

She felt the Lord's work upon her heart. When James 
Smith, a local preacher, asked her to become his wife, she ac- 
cepted, thinking he would become a pastor, and thus a useful 
life be opened to her. But some profess much religion over 
little or no grace and a life of inconsistencies. So it was in 
his case. Amanda hoped for a home for herself and daugh- 
ter, but her faithless and usually idle husband deceived her, 
and had no intention of living the unselfish life of a Christian. 
She worked out, taking her children with her. She washed, 
cooked, baked, and ironed, working far into the night to earn 
a scant living for the family. Rent was high, wages low. 
Working at times when she should not have worked, or tak- 
ing her nursing babes with her, resulted directly or indirectly 
in the death of her live babes. She would move to accommo- 
date her husband if he would get a bit of work, but she usu- 
ally had to pay the rent, as well as build up patronage for 
her washing at each new place. 

Her husband was a Mason and an Odd-fellow, and undei 
h s persuasion she joined three secret societies in New York. 
This was intended as a substitute for the good church-fellow- 
ship she had enjoyed in Philadelphia. But as it only drew 
her into worldly society, and taxed her little income to pay 
her dues, it was little satisfaction. When God opened her 
eyes to see the folly of it all she came out of them, though 
many friends now became her enemies. 

Seef^ing and Finding Holiness 

One morning a friend found her weeping, nearly broken- 
hearted, over her wash-tub. Her husband had been so un- 



Amanda Smith 389 

kind, so hard to please. "Well, get sanctified, and then you 
will have enduring grace," said her friend. "My, is that 
what sanctification means? Enduring grace! That is just 
what I need. I have always been planning to get out of 
trials, instead of asking God for enduring grace," was Aman- 
da's reflection. From that time on she struggled, wept and 
prayed, "Oh, Lord, sanctify my soul, and give me enduring 
grace." 

Added to the ill-temper of her husband was the meanness 
and quarrelsomeness of her neighbors, in the flats or cellars, 
where they rented. One or two poorly-furnished rooms was 
what they called home. But Amanda was neat and saving, 
and the grace of God enabled her to go through much. When 
a new job was offered Mr. Smith, she refused to move again, 
for she knew she would have to pay expenses, and it was so 
hafd to get work in a new community. He went alone, re- 
turning occasionally to see her, but did not help pay the ex- 
penses. The public whipping-post is not an mjustice to such 
husbands. 

She continued praying for holiness. She had heard of 
some people being greatly blest when they were immersed. So 
she decided to be baptized by immersion, and at that time the 
Lord would sanctify her she thought. But her plans were 
frustrated, and the immersion never occurred. Then she and 
two or three others, who met together to pray, decided to 
wash each other's feet. Then, thought she, the Lord would 
sanctify her. But no, the feet-washing did not occur, and her 
broken reed was gone. On Sabbath she wanted to hear John 
Inskip preach. But it was so far ; her husband would be home 
for dinner, would want a fine meal, and not a minute late. 
Also, the baby must be cared for. But she left the child 
with her daughter Mazie, prepared dinner as best she could 



390 Men and Women 6f Deep Piety 

beforehand, and went. Satan went also, tormenting her un- 
ceasingly about her home cares, and trying to induce her to go 
to a nearby church, where holiness would not be preached. 
With spirit almost fainting, and body weary, she entered the 
church and listened to that flaming evangel preach from the 
text, "That ye put on the new man, which after God is created 
in righteousness and true holiness." With the simple illustra- 
tion of how we breathe without pain or effort, he showed how 
one need not fix any way for God. The simplicity of faith 
dawned upon Amanda's mind, and in a moment she was 
trusting the Lord for the great work. She writes, "I seemed 
to go two ways at once — up and down. Such a wave came 
over me, and such a welling up in my heart. Oh, what glory 
filled my soul! The great vacuum in my soul began to fill 
up. I wanted to shout: 'Glory to Jesus,' but Satan said, 
*Now, if you make a noise, they will put you out.' " 

As the sermon continued, wave after wave swept through 
her soul. On account of being a colored person in a white 
people's church, she was very careful, and almost quenched 
the Spirit. During the singing of the last hymn, as the con- 
gregation sang of the cleansing of the blood, she arose and 
shouted, "Glory to Jesus!" The power of the Lord came 
mightily upon her, prostrating her under its weight three times 
on her way home. Of course she was a gazing stock, but it 
mattered not to her. She testified to God's work in her soul 
to some friends she passed on the way, and continued telling 
it at home, to church officials and others. 

The simplicity of her faith thereafter was beautiful. She 
learned to distinguish the voice of the Lord and to walk in 
the Spirit. Her flaming testimony was blest to many. She 
saw good fruitage from her personal work of passing tracts, 
exhorting people and ministering to the sick, though her time 



Amanda Smith 391 

was so fully occupied with providing for the family. Many 
in like circumstances would have excused themselves from any 
active soul-winning service, saying they had too much to do. 
She had a strong, rich voice, and could sing as only the col- 
ored people can. 

Her baby died, also her husband, leaving only her daugh- 
ter Mazie. To educate this daughter, then about fifteen years 
old, became her ambition. Amanda thought that she herself 
was too poor and ignorant to be of much service to the Lord. 
So she hoped to train her child that she might become an effi- 
cient laborer in the Lord's vineyard. But "God hath chosen 
the foolish to confound the wise", and He chose this colored 
wash-woman to minister to many in holy things. The daugh- 
ter received a good college education, taught school, then mar- 
ried, and though a good Christian woman, she never became a 
missionary, as her mother had fondly hoped. 

Amanda was first called of the Lord to go to the town of 
Salem. A pair of shoes and the necessary train fare were 
providentially given her. At first she was looked upon with 
suspicion and prejudice, but the Divine seal was so upon her 
humble efforts that in afternoon prayer-meetings, and evening 
talks and Bible readings, salvation broke out, many cried for 
mercy, and the tide of victory rolled on. Her early evange- 
listic efforts were interspersed with doing washings and work- 
ing out by the day. When a request came to assist in a meet- 
ing, she would pray over it, and if it were Divine order, 
means would be provided to pay her way and furnish lodg- 
ing. One to whom she passed tracts on a train gave her two 
dollars. At camp-meetings she would be asked to lodge with 
someone whose heart the Lord had touched. Calls to camp 
and revival services multiplied. The humble, earnest colored 
woman was owned of God in prayer, song and testimony. 



392 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

Still she did not become puffed up, but enjoyed serving others, 
carrying water, cleaning up tents, and sleeping in inconvenient 
and most humble quarters. Then the Lord would most sig- 
nally anoint her, and all declared the blessedness of her pres- 
ence. • 

She bore many trials on account of her color. Some white 
folks would be afraid she would hinder the meeting; some 
were too prejudiced to receive her in their homes or at their 
table. She had to ride on top of an omnibus, and wait until 
all the folks had alighted. She was invited out of a meeting 
conducted by two ladies. At another time she was warned 
not to attend services being held among the wealthy in a cer- 
tain place. These ostracisms were endured, not only among 
white folks, but sometimes among those of her own race, for 
she labored very much in the African M. E. church. She 
attended the A. M. E. General Conference at Nashville. Her 
plain bonnet and dress contrasted strongly with the elegant attire 
of the ministers' wives. Colored people like gorgeous colors 
and pompous styles, and evidently some of those professors of 
religion had not yet died out to the "vain pomp and glory of 
the world". Of course, they let her strictly alone. Some 
whispered that she was there to advocate the ordination of 
women. She paid her own train fare and hotel expenses, and 
yet could scarcely get a lodging. In many ways she was 
shown that her company was not desired. The entire Confer- 
ence was invited to the Fiske Conservatory. Amanda went. 
The Famous Jubilee Singers occupied the choir, and were to 
lead the singing. The leader, who knew Amanda and her 
spiritual singing, spied her back in the audience, sought her, 
and leading her forward, introduced her to the great and as- 
tounded audience. Then he requested her to sing, while the 
Jubilee Singers joined in the chorus, as only they could! The 



Amanda Smith 393 

Spirit of the Lord came down, and thereafter Amanda had 
plenty of friends. "Promotion cometh neither from the east, 
nor from the west, nor from the south. God is the judge; 
he putteth down one and setteth up another." 

When asked if she would not rather be white, she replied : 
*'No, no; as the Lord lives, I would rather be black, and 
/u//p saved, than to be white and not saved. I was bad 
enough, black as I am, and I would have been ten times worse 
if I had been white." It's the blood that makes whiteness. 

In hundreds of meetings she labored in America, twelve 
years in England among the Keswick people and others, one 
and one-half years in India, preaching the baptism of the 
Moly Ghost to the missionaries, and eight years in Liberia and 
Sierre Leone, Africa. Part of these years she was called 
from place to pla^e, and supported by the people. Part of 
the time she rented her own house, paid her own expenses, 
labored among the natives, and assisted the missionaries in 
their meetings and other work. 

In England she was royally received in the homes of the 
wealthy, and though cherished by so many friends, and every 
human need supplied, she kept the same simplicity, humility 
and plainness. "He that humbleth himself shall be exalted." 

The fact that she was a woman, and moreover, a black 
woman, often served as a big advertisement to her meetings, 
bringing out great numbers of people, curious at first, then re- 
pentance and believing. She said she was the Lord's billboard. 

Her last years were spent in a comfortable home in Se- 
bring, Florida, provided for her by the kind Mr. George Se- 
bring. 



SAVONAROLA 



GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA was bom at Ferrara, 
Italy, September 21, 1452. He was a quiet, pensive 
child, serious almost to melancholy. He was well educated 
by h.s grandfather and his parents. The grandfather was a 
physician of great influence at the court, and for that profes- 
s on was the youth designed. The parents were not religious, 
but respectable. Girolamo was then" third son. He was a 
very apt pupil, studious and gentle. He loved retirement and 
hated publicity. 

His determination to become a monk was brought about 
by a variety of causes. The sins of the times weighed heavily 
upon his mind. People were given up to gross sensuality. 
Vital godliness seemed almost extinct. Rapine and murder 
were common sins of the day. Astrology was taught in the 
Echocl, and was accepted by prelates and people who rejected 
the Bible. Vice was everywhere held in honor, and virtue 
disdained. Some of the most vicious characters known in his- 
tory were popes exalted upon the throne of spiritual and tem- 
poral power at Rome. Such a revulsion against the wicked- 
ness of his times took possession of young Savonarola that he 
determined to extricate himself from the human filthiness about 
him by fleeing from home on the day of the festival of St. 
George, 1475, and made application to enter the brotherhood 
of St. Dominic at Bologna. He offered to do the most menial 
kind of service, but his unusual qualities of mind soon dis- 

394 



GiRONAMO Savonarola 39 j 

tinguished him above his fellows, and he was made lecturer 
on philosophy. He fasted and prayed much; also wrote 
against the corruptions of the church. 

His influence steadily increased, in spite of the opposition 
of the aristocrats. The prevailing amusements and vices came 
in for their share of denunciation. The lewd fashions, so in- 
decent and degrading, and a sure sign of the degeneracy of 
any nation, were classed with debauchery and drunkenness. 
Men and women, as they left the church, tore off their orna- 
ments, and gave them as an offering to God or the state. 

Like his Master, his death cast its long shadow before it. 
Such scalding denunciations of the foul popes of his day, and 
the proclaiming that Christendom needed to reform, could not 
fail to bring wrath down upon his head in due time. The 
Arbraitai at Florence, the friends of the fallen Medici, and 
the Pope at Rome combined against him. Open opposition 
was not safe at first. He was misrepresented as a seditious 
citizen, a disloyal priest, and an enemy of all authority and 
good government. The Pope first sent h'm a request to ap- 
pear at Rome. Savonarola was too well informed of the de- 
ception and political wire-pulling that had been going on to be 
deceived by soft flatteries. He was just recovering from a 
severe illness, and could not go. He desisted from preaching 
for a time, and another addressed the people in his place. 

A violent uproar, started by his enemies, broke up his 
preaching on Ascension Day. Next the Pope's excommuni- 
cation arrived. 

After the reading of the excommunication, announced by 
bells, and accompanied by the extinguishing of lighted tapers, 
there was no restraint upon the mob, now under control of his 
enemies. By the payment of five thousand scudi the excom- 
munication would be withdrawn — this as a proof of the venal- 



396 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ity of Rome. Even after the excommunication, Savonarola 
appeared in the cathedral pulpit, and voiced the truth that, in 
matters of conscience, we ought to obey God rather than mer;. 
The Pope was more furious than ever. Savonarola discussed 
the fallibility of the Pope, and declared that a man who said 
the Pope could not err because he was Pope might as well 
say that a Christian could not err because he was a Christian. 
Then he penned his famous '' Letter to the Princes of Eu- 
rope \ telling them that the church was full of abominations, 
so that the Lord was grievously displeased. "I testify now to 
you that this Alexander is not Pope, nor can he be reta ned 
as such; for leaving alone his most wicked sin of simony, by 
which he obtained the papal chair, and the fact that every day 
he sells the ecclesiastical benefices to whosoever will buy them, 
and apart from his other manifest vices, I affirm that he 's not 
a Christian, and that he does not believe there is a God." 

The arrest and death of the prophet remind one forcibly 
of the closing scenes of the life of his Lord. The mob, incited 
by his political and religious enemies, besieged the sanctuary 
of the convent, where he and about thirty had taken refuge. 
Doors were battered and burned down, missiles hurled, and 
in the wild confusion Savonarola and some adherents were 
hurried away. Several times he was examined by torture. His 
body was racked by inhuman sufferings to extract from him a 
confession of heresy, or an agreement to desist from his de- 
nunciations of the sins of priests and people. His hands were 
bound behind him by the strongest chains. They were then 
tied to a rope attached to the roof of the building, by which 
he was first drawn up to a great height, and then let fall with 
great violence, so that his feet did not quite touch the ground, 
his body remaining suspended in the air, sprang upwards again, 
so that his shoulders were put out of joint, and his muscles 



GiROLAMo Savonarola 397 

strained and torn. Insults were heaped upon him; he was 
struck and spit upon. Burning coals were applied to his feet, 
so that the flesh and nerves were half burned. Still he would 
not recant. The torture was repeated several times. Re- 
turning to his cell, he would kneel and ask God to forgive his 
enemies. The scribe who recorded his answers distorted them 
to make them appear like recantation, and this report was 
given to his followers. He and his two companions, Bene- 
detto and Salvestro, were brought forth, and in the presence 
of jeering thousands were first hanged, then burned. Before 
his execution, Savonarola was divested of his clerical garb, 
and the bishop stammered these words, ''Separo te ah Ec- 
clesia militante atque triumphante.'' (I separate you from 
the church militant and the church triumphant.) ^'Militante, 
yes," replied Savonarola, "but triumphante, no; for this does 
not belong to you." They were words heard by many, and 
not soon forgotten. A priest asked him with what mind he 
endured his sufferings, and he replied, "Should I not die wil- 
lingly for Him who suffered as much for me?" He was so 
absorbed in devotion that he scarcely seemed aware of what 
was going on about him. An awful silence reigned, broken 
by a coarse voice crying, "Now, prophet, is the time to work 
a miracle." 

Miseries were in store for Florence, and as the blood of 
the Savior called down Divine wrath upon Jerusalem, so Flor- 
ence lived to regret the day when she shed the blood of the 
holy prophet of God, who feared not to warn them with tears. 
He was not entirely delivered from Romish superstitions, but 
he was far in advance of his times in the reforms he advocated, 
and no doubt was one of the most saintly prophets ever given 
to the Church. 



MINNIE B. SHELHAMER 



|\ /IINNIE BALDWIN was the tenth child of a pious ru- 
i^y ^ ral family living near Euclid, Ohio. Five-sixths of our 
preachers and six-tenths of our college professors are from the 
country. Country-bred men have shaped our national life. 
Environment is considered by many authorities of greater 
importance in character building than heredity. The beauti- 
ful home-life of the large family governed by the parents, 
Deuiiel and Sarah Baldwin, was decidedly Christian. The 
holy fire of the family altar was kept brightly burning, and 
their hospitable home often sheltered Christian workers. 

Minnie was a bright, vivacious, strong-willed child. As 
she developed into young womanhood she became studious, of 
independent mind, and a general favoriite among her girl 
friends. She loved the world, and conformed to it, although 
the family discipline prevented, her from dipping deeply into 
its follies. 

The loved mother slipped off to Heaven when Minnie was 
sixteen. Conviction settled down upon her lonely, crushed 
heart, yet she defiantly fought it off for one year. Her pray- 
ing friends became discouraged by her light or irritable dis- 
dain of all their attempts to win her to the Lord. 

"At night, while others slept, she often walked the floor, 
wept and wrung her hands. The time came for the annual 
camp-meeting a few miles away. Left nearly alone, she went 
to the woods for a ramble, as was often her custom. Though 

398 




Mrs. Minnie B. Shelhamer 



Minnie B. Shelhamer 401 

usually fearless, today she was frightened. Every snapping 
twig terrified her, and an impression seized her, 'You must 
yield to God now or never.' She began to pray with all her 
might, and told the Loid that if He would spare her life to 
get home, and go to the camp-meeting, she would get saved. 

*'She kept the promise. Though the struggle was terrible, 
yet she presented herself at the altar as a seeker, and continued 
during the rest of the meeting. Her conviction was so power- 
ful that often, as she was walking over the grounds, she step- 
ped back suddenly, feeling as if she was about to plunge into 
hell. Relief did not come till after returning home. She 
walked her bedroom for three days and nights, gave up her 
bright prospects and ambitions, died out to the world and her 
young friends, submitted her strong will to God, and received 
the peace that passeth understanding. To the surprise of 
many she laid aside all worldly adorning, and identified her- 
self with the unpopular and peculiar people. 

"The first Sabbath night after her conversion the little 
church was crowded. Her young friends and schoolmates had 
heard of her being saved, and had come for the express pur- 
pose of seeing how she would look, and what she would say. 
When the opportunity was given for testimony, she arose and, 
facing the people, she told of the struggle she had been 
through, and the wonderful peace in her soul since she had 
surrendered her life to God. Instead of laughter and ridicule, 
there was seriousness and conviction on all countenances. 

"The change in this young girl was wonderful and com- 
plete. She was out and out for Christ as she had been before 
for the world. She loved the prayer-meeting and all the ser- 
vices of the house of God, and was often blest in prayer and 
testimony. Though in the past she shrank from being peculiar, 
she was frequently so filled with the power of the Spirit that 



402 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

she fell prostrate on the floor in the prayer-meeting or the 
love- feast. It was understood by all who knew her that it 
was fully settled by her to obey the Lord at any cost. 

"Her call to give her life for souls was also very clear. 
Many times during the year after her conversion, while at 
school studying, at night trying to sleep, or in prayer, she 
would see hands stretched out to her, and a voice saying, 
'Come and save us.' At first she supposed it was a call to be 
a missionary, as she knew of no young people who were actively 
engaged in the Lord's work at home. She became acquainted 
with some missionaries who were on their way to Africa, and 
offered herself to God for that field if it were His will. 

"At this time Rev. V. A. Dake, a holy man of God, felt 
led to organize for active evangelistic work young people who 
he had cause to believe would be useful soul-winners if the 
door was opened for them. Minnie and her sister were in- 
vited to join one of these bands. Some good people opposed, 
and it was hard for the family to see these inexperienced girls 
start out in the big world thus. "But the Lord made His will 
plain to all ere the camp-meeting closed. The elder asked 
Minnie to lead a morning love-feast, and the power of the 
Lord came on her and the service so wonderfully that the spir- 
itually-minded people could not fail to see that it was the seal 
of the Spirit to the call. How many young people fail to move 
out in God's work as quickly as He leads. They wait a year 
or two for more school, or the well-meant arguments of friends 
hinder them. They become entangled in business, or some pre- 
mature love affair, and all the designs of God in their cases 
are frustrated. 

"These young people never thought of preaching, and 
would have been frightened at the suggestion. After singing 
and prayer, one of their number would lead by reading a p)or- 



Minnie B. Shelhamer ' 4():i 

tion of Scripture, commenting on particular passages as led, 
and telling some of her personal experience. The others would 
follow with testimony, exhortation or song, and the blessing of 
God would come upon them. They were just simple enough 
to follow the Spirit. Minnie was especially powerful in prayer. 
An old brother who used to get wonderfully blest in the meet- 
ings said of her that when Miss Minnie prayed it brought 
Heaven and earth together. She also had great simplicity of 
faith. Since God had saved her, she was very sure He could 
save anybody else, or do anything. 

"In the Hanover meeting, a certain infidel was so interested 
that he did not miss a meeting for five weeks. They besieged 
the throne of grace in his behalf. "The workers were fre- 
quently invited to his house, and were all there to supper one 
night, when Minnie was taken very sick. She fainted away, 
and then, as cold water was used to bring her to consciousness, 
she had a chill. And thus it was for some time, fainting and 
chilling alternately. The room was filled with anxious friends, 
who thought she was dying. At this critical time her sister 
and the others resorted, as usual, to prayer. The infidel, who, 
with his wife, was very much concerned, thought: 'Now I'll 
see if this praying does any good.' He sat with his hand on 
the sick one's pulse which, as the praying commenced, was very 
feeble, and soon seemed to stop entirely. 'She is gone,' he 
said. But presently the pulse commenced to beat again, 
stronger and regularly, the symptoms disappeared, and she 
settled back quietly and went to sleep. The man was amazed, 
renounced his infidelity publicly, and soon after was gloriously 
converted. He later became a preacher of the Gospel." 

In their meeting at Gardner, Ills., some one tried to set 
the tent on fire, missiles were thrown, etc. "After a few weeks 
the meetings were moved to a hall. Some were converted, but 



404 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

the real break did not come for two months or more, while Sa- 
tan's agents kept working. They threw things in the windows, 
pounded on tin cans, put matches on the floor for people to 
step on, and one night when the congregation was ready to go 
home, they found the door was locked. The key had acci- 
dentally been left on the outside, and some mischievous person 
had turned it and run away. If the workers had been easily 
discouraged, they might have fled from the field, but an in- 
ward assurance of victory held them up. They rented some 
rooms for a band home, and sometimes had only bread to eat. 
One Sabbath their dinner consisted of three slices of bread for 
the four of them. One of the young ladies felt led to fast, and 
the others ate their slice of bread and were thankful. 

"Their faith was not disappointed. There came a time 
when the altar was nightly filled with seekers, and there were 
some wonderful conversions." A wicked, beer-drinking, ca- 
rousing family, the terror of the place, was gloriously saved. 
They made restitutions, gave up their bad habits, and became 
respected Christian citizens. 

At Braceville many souls were saved, and some of the vil- 
est of the vile were transformed into clean, upright children of 
God. The enemy was enraged, and the little band was ar- 
rested when holding a street meeting. "The blessing of God 
fell so wonderfully on the band that they were shouting and 
praising Him till the officers had more than their hands full." 
Minnie used the opportunity to talk salvation to the officer 
leading her off. He trembled and shook, opened the prison 
door, showed her the way, and hurried shamefacedly away. 
"They were locked in the engme house, as there was not room 
for all in the cells, and for an hour and a half had a testi- 
mony and praise meeting. But in the meantime the whole 
town was stirred up, and an angry crowd surrounded the jail. 



Minnie B. Shelhamer 405 

threatened to tear it down if the workers were not released. 
When given their Hberty, they marched to the hall singing, and 
had a glorious meeting. Many others were saved during the 
few weeks that the m.eetings were still continued." 

Minnie was not as strong as she looked, and often was not 
physically able to carry so great burdens. Sometimes she was 
misunderstood, sometimes misjudged. Her clothing was 
patched and worn. Her patience and faith were sorely tested, 
but she continued faithfully plodding on in the path of duty, 
and in due time sufficient money was handed her to supply all 
her needs. 

In the Ottawa meeting she was very ill with typhoid- 
malaria. At the crisis of her fever, she had a vision of death 
coming to claim her. "No, you cannot do it. I am too young. 
You dare not do it. Mlj TvorJ^ is not yet done," she defiantly 
said to death. She recovered rapidly, and resumed her place 
in the meeting. "The street meetings were a great annoyance 
to the saloonists and Catholic authorities, till finally the workers 
were told that if they came out on the street any more to hold 
services they would be arrested. Not feeling clear to discon- 
tinue the open-air services, they were arrested one night and 
marched to jail, singing as they went. 

"This was the vilest jail of its kind — dirty, and smelling as 
if gas was escaping, while vermin of all kinds abounded. The 
four young ladies were assigned to the women's department, 
which happily had no other inmates. The beds were too filthy 
to think of using, so after singing and prayer, they spread some 
newspapers on the floor, and spent the night as best they 
could. 

"The next day they were tried, and since they would not 
promise to hold no more street-meetings, they were sentenced 
to ten days, and carried back to their vile quarters. The turn- 



406 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

key was kind to them, and brought in clean beds for them. 
They asked the Lord to send the vermin away, and never saw 
any after the first night. They were kept seven days, during 
which time a number of prisoners were brought in, often dis- 
turbing their rest with clamor and noise. They talked and 
prayed with all who came, through the grating that separated 
them, and some were much affected. Some said, 'What a 
shame! We are brought here for being drunk, and you for 
telling us not to drink.' 

"The magistrates visited them, and said they should 
be released at once if they would promise to hold no more 
street meetings, but they did not feel clear to promise. The 
health officers came to see them, and demanded that they be 
allowed some out-door exercise daily or they would all be 
sick. Therefore the last part of their stay they were per- 
mitted to walk around the grounds some every day. When 
they were released, they were warned not to go back on the 
street to hold a service, or they would be brought back. 

"After two or three days rest they again felt led to go on 
the street. They were promptly arrested, and carried back to 
jail. When tried, they were sentenced to thirty days, but 
they were given their liberty, with the understanding that at 
the next offense they would be taken to the prison for thirty 
days without further trial. 

"Minnie and the band prayed earnestly over the matter 
for several days. In the meantime, some hard cases were get- 
ting converted in the meetings. At length they felt they must 
go back to the street and warn the ungodly crowds, let the re- 
sults be what they would. They went, and were promptly 
taken back to jail, with the prospect of staying thirty days in 
that loathsome place unless the Lord undertook for them. 



Minnie B. Shelhamer 407* 

"The better class of citizens were becoming indignant. A 
lawyer of his own accord visited them, and said the whole 
thing was unjust, and he would himself commence proceedings 
against the city. The authorities were becoming alarmed. 
They thought they were contending with some young people 
whose enthusiasm could be worn out with a few days in their 
filthy prison. But, since they had commenced the fight, they 
were unwilling to give in. 

"The workers felt that it was a matter of principle and 
souls, and, like Daniel of old, they knew the Lord could de- 
liver them, but, if not, they were prepared to suffer for His 
sake. 

"They remained three or four days, when, just as the law- 
yer referred to, had prepared his writs of habeas corpus, the 
mayor, marshal, and other officers came in and, after an at- 
tempt to make them promise not to hold street meetings, which 
failed as usual, they let them go, and gave them the best cor- 
ner in the city for their street services, and a policeman to keep 
order for them. 

"This was a complete victory, and now the little band 
praised the Lord for undertaking for them. 

"At Tuscola, 111., great victories were won. Again they 
were arrested on the charge of disturbing the peace of formal 
church-members and such as did not believe in religion in earn- 
est. They were fined one dollar and costs. As they had done 
nothing wrong, they refused to pay the charges, and were again 
remanded to prison. However, they were well treated, and 
everything possible was done for their comfort. "Excitement 
ran high on the outside, while within there was calmness and 
praises to God. Early the next morning streams of visitors 
came, and all alike said it was a disgrace to the town, an un- 
heard of thing, to thus incarcerate young ladies for worshiping 



'408 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

God according to the dictates of their own consciences in their 
own hired hall. The authorities were glad to release them at 
2:30 the next day. The converts had gathered, and they 
marched all the way to the afternoon prayer-meeting, singing as 
they went. The work, of course, went better than ever." 

After a wonderful meeting at Charleston, Minnie was at 
home sick with nervous prostration. Once more the Lord un- 
dertook; she was marvelously healed, and two days later went 
two hundred miles to a camp-meeting at Urbana, Ills. At this 
camp she met a taJl, slender young man, called out of college 
into the Lord's good service. "Brother Dake introduced him 
as 'Brother Elmer Shelhamer, a graduate from straw college,' 
referring to his recent struggle in the straw at the altar. He 
was a blessed young man, who had the matter fully settled to 
give his life for the salvation of souls." At the close of one 
year's engagement Minnie Baldwin and E. E. Shelhamer were 
happily married. She was a true helpmeet, and for ten beau- 
tiful years they labored together, snatching souls from the eter- 
nal burnings and edifying the "body of Christ." 

A very fruitful meeting was held at Blairsville, Pa. Some 
time later they retired for some weeks from, public labors, and 
in a country place in Virginia, away from all company, they 
gave themselves up to prayer in a very special way. It marked 
an epoch in their lives; special anointing was given, and clearer 
Divine leadings in personal matters. They were now decided 
to labor in the South. This meant the breaking of the ties of 
kinship, separation from loved co-workers, and going into a 
new field — strangers in a strange land. After quite a chain 
of providential dealings, we find them attending a Holiness 
Convention in Atlanta, Ga. Here, after some days, they were 
pressed into service. A profound impression was made by a 
powerful sermon delivered by Mrs. Shelhamer. We tran- 



Minnie B. Shelhamer 409 

scribe a small part of the article in the daily press at the time: 
"CREATING A SENSATION 

"A woman preacher talks to hundreds in a tent. 
"Goes for the Social Evils. 

"Caustic words of Mrs. Shelhamer, a transient Female Evan- 
gelist." 

"The church-going element of East Atlanta is somewhat 
stirred over the preaching from the pulpit of St. Luke's Meth- 
odist Episcopal Church of a female evangelist. 

Cfi :f. :^ ff. :£. :f if. 

"Although Mrs, Shelhamer has conducted the services on 
several occasions during the past ten days, her theme and con- 
sequent comments, in the course of her sermon Sunday night 
last, seems to have elicited more criticisms in that neighborhood 
than all else. 

"On Sunday night last there were by conservative esti- 
mate about one thousand people under and around the tent to 
hear the lady preacher. Her text was, 'The wages of sin is 
death, but the gift of God is eternal life.' The universal 
verdict of all present, without denominational prejudice or 
bias, was that she handled her subject in an exceptionally mas- 
terful, forceful and lucid manner. 

"Her most delicate reference was in relation to the mar- 
ried young among the higher classes. While her subjects were 
fraught with danger, in language that few ministers would have 

dared to embrace, Mrs.' S succeeded in a unique way to 

use only such high language as belongs to propriety, yet her 
explanations were wonderfully lucid, and the chain of argu- 
ment connected with phenomenal grace. 

"Mrs. S is profoundly in earnest in her efforts to re- 



410 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

form society. She and her husband seem to have held meet- 
ings in 'nearly every important center in the United States." 

Alter an evangelist c trip north, they returned to At- 
lanta. In spite of misunderstandings, prejudice, false reports 
and opposition from, various sources, there were some hearts 
hungry enough to die out to carnality and obtain real holiness. 
After two or three years of privations and tests of faith, a good, 
strong holiness work was established, an orphanage opened, 
and the wholesome monthly evangel, ''The Repairer,'' was 
started on its mission of spreading the Bible truths of full 

salvation. For this paper Mrs. S often wrote pointed, 

helpful articles. 

in order that this brief sketch m.ay be a clear, definite tes- 
timony to the blessed experience of holiness as a second, in- 
stantaneous work of grace, wrought m the heart of the believer 
subsequent to justification, we transcribe her testimony as given 
by herself: 

"In my early experience I was convicted of inward de- 
pravity, and began seeking holiness. The minister said, 'Now, 
consecrate yourself, and give up all to Him.' I answered, 
'I did that when I was saved. God knows I would go to the 
darkest corner of Africa if He wanted me to.' He then said, 
'Can't you believe that He sanctifies you?' I answered, 'But 
there is something wrong in my heart.' I tried to follow his 
teaching and believe I was sanctified, but in a few days the 
same old trouble came up again. For months I was almost in 
despair of finding deliverance. Finally I was permitted to hear 
a man preach real death to carnality who had experienced the 
same. I said, 'That is just what I need.' I confessed the 
depravity of my heart to God, and He cleansed me of all un- 
righteousness. Praise His name! Thank God, we can be so 
clean that the devil cannot find anything in us to claim as his 



Minnie B. Shelhamer 411 

own, nor the omniscient gaze of the Almighty find anything 
more to be removed. Hallelujah!" 

She was one to whom many came for counsel and went 
away not disappointed. She managed her large household of 
Christian workers, and orphans, with grace and efficiency. Her 
public addresses were ably delivered, and showed most care- 
ful, prayerful preparation. She bore disappointments cheer- 
fully, and sought to glorify God in faithfully carrying every 
burden of her lot. 

She looked forward to the pleasure and responsibility of 
motherhood with joy. But when that time came, the little 
waxen form lay cold and lifeless, and the mother very low and 
unconscious. Though unconscious of the presence of friends 
and loved ones weeping around her, she caught a glim.pse of 
the th ngs prepared for them that love Him, and her eyes lit up 
with glad surprise and heavenly glory, then her pure spirit took 
Its flight about 5:30 a. m. on the 28th of March, 1902. 

Her Christian walk was without break or failure, her de- 
votion to her Lord intense, her married life sweet and beauti- 
ful. Our usefulness is not measured by years, but by improv- 
ing every opportunity to be a blessing to others, and compel- 
ling every circumstance in life to yield a rich increase in the 
grace of God. 

Much more could be said, but if any desire to read her life, 
entitled, "^4 Remarkable Woman\ it can be had at "/Re- 
pairer" Office, Atlanta, Ga. 



DOROTHEA TRUDEL 



A FEW years ago, many travelers visited a beautiful lit- 
tle Swiss village, nestled among the hills, and border- 
ing the Lake of Zurich. This was the quiet home of Doro- 
thea Trudel, the subject of this sketch. Modest and unas- 
suming, she found the simplicity of faith for soul and body, 
and contrary to any design of her o^v^l, was led into great use- 
fulness in praying the prayer of faith for the recovery of hun- 
dreds of sick, diseased and lunatic. In this day, when men 
who profess healing gifts, put on a professional display, and 
topple from the pinnacle where sentimental religionists place 
them, it is very refreshing to pure faith to find one who, dis- 
carding all honor and self-seeking, in child-like simplicity 
prayed for afflicted ones, and saw marvelous results to the 
glory of her King. 

In a tract, entitled "£me Mutier^\ Dorothea pays a beau- 
tiful tribute to her sainted mother. When one notes the un- 
usual piety of the mother, it is not a surprise to see her faith 
reappear in her children. 

Dorothea's mother had married unhappily. Her husband 
was profligate, away from home much of the time, and only 
a trouble-maker when at home. Yet her children never heard 
from her lips a murmur, nor saw in her conduct toward her 
unworthy husband aught but true ^vifely respect. She con- 
cealed his faults and lauded his few redeeming virtues — a les- 
son we all need better to learn. With her hands she earned 

412 



Dorothea Trudel 413 

the meager living, training up her children to contentment in 
midst of hardship, and teaching each one to help maintain the 
family at an early age. 

"We were eleven children in family, and as our means of 
livelihood were extremely limited, we were brought up in very 
plain manner. However, by the influence of our dear mother's 
example, and powerfully affected by her prayerful life, we 
learned to be so contented with our lot that our youth was 
really a happy time. Notwithstanding our father's frequent 
painful outbursts of impatience, peace might be justly said to 
dwell under our roof, and the order and quietude of our home 
were a standing evidence of the influence of unceasing prayer. 

"When any of us were ill, we were brought in prayer be- 
fore the feet of the heavenly Physician. .Our mother had no 
cure except prayer. Even when I had small-pox, and became 
blind, no doctor was sent for, and no one was told of it. Our 
father was not at home, and when our mother asked him to 
come, telling him how ill I was, he would not believe it, and 
preferred to remain with his friends. Our mother was not in 
the least vexed or excited; she prayed for him, for all of us — 
especially for her sick child. Before my father came home 
my eyes were opened. 

"One of my brothers had a fit, brought on through fright. 
Mother said to us, 'Jesus, who cured the lunatic boy, can heal 
our chid. Do not speak of the attack to anyone. We will 
go only to Jesus about it,' and then she prayed with us." (He 
had three attacks, but in answer to prayer was delivered, and 
the disease never reappeared until thirty-four years later, after 
the mother had died.) 

"I could narrate numberless facts of this kind if I had 
not, with them, almost always to make unpleasant allusions to 
my father. I am sorry to say he it was who caused many of 



414 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

our troubles; but at last even he was brought to the knowl- 
edge of the truth, and after our mother's death he himself, 
in old age, fell peacefully asleep in Jesus; so this portion also 
of our mother's prayers was answered." 

Ought not the answers to prayer which this mother re- 
ceived, in the conversion of husband and children, be a great 
encouragement to all mothers who labor under like difficulties? 

Dorothea resembled her father in features and violent tem- 
per. She struggled to conquer herself, and in young woman- 
hood was looked up to as a good Christian. But she still 
loved the dance, and in her own heart did not enjoy real peace 
with God until twenty-two years old. She was twenty-seven 
when her mother died, leaving eleven children, all grown up. 

Defending herself against the ill-mannered approach of a 
young man, she strained her back. The result was the re- 
taining of a good name, but bringing curvature of the spine 
for the remainder of her life. 

"The spinal disease remained, my line figure vanished, 
and I became a crooked, dwarfed, withered being, so that 
those to whom I had formerly been known, and who had not 
seen me for the last two years, could not recognize me. Al- 
though at this time utterly unable to stoop, I performed my 
various duties as usual." 

In the following manner, her faith was led out for the 
healing of others. Four of her work-people fell sick, and 
though attended by physicians, they became worse afflicted. 
"The necessity became so pressing that I went as a worm to 
the Lord, and laid our distress before Him. I told Him how 
willingly I would send for an elder, as is commanded in 
James, v. But as there was none, I must go to my sick ones 
and, vnthout trusting to any virtue in my hand, I would lay 



Dorothea Trudel 413 

it upon them. I did so, and by the Lord's blessing all four 
recovered. 

She began visiting among unsaved people after her daily 
work was done. Every day she prayed with some children 
who came to her. A sickness broke out in the village. Doro- 
thea went in and out among them. Many recovered in an- 
swer to her prayers. The rumor spread, and people from the 
neighborhood thronged to her or sent for her. Her leisure was 
all taken. Some came from a distance. In her kindness she 
lodged some of the sick over night, etc. After many solicita- 
tions of her friends, she gave up her flower work, and devoted 
herself entirely to nursing the sick and praying for their recov- 
ery. Healings continued, and the reports spread. Another 
house was purchased to help accommodate the applicants. 
There came to be practically a hospital at Mannedorf — a 
hospital without physician or surgeon, medicine or knife! Pa- 
tients came from France and Germany, and even Great 
Britain. 

Usually patients were lodged in the home, sometimes else- 
where in the town. No charges whatever were required of 
the poor. Those who were able paid from five to eight shil- 
lings per week. All boarded at the hall, on a very plain, 
simple diet. Their number averaged about one hundred and 
fifty daily. Dorothea conducted three services a day, giving 
instructions, aiming at the salvation of each, and then what 
volumes of prayers went up for deliverance of lunatic, idiotic, 
sick, lame and diseased. Healing not always came immedi- 
ately. It was often the case that God did not answer until 
the patient confessed his spiritual illness and yielded to God. 

No advertising was done, no promises flaunted that all 
who came would be immediately healed, the workers did not 
swell to great proportions of conceit, doctors were not decried. 



416 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

but if any patient desired a physxian he was allowed to em- 
ploy one at his own expense. As many as the two houses 
would accommodate were received, most tenderly nursed, in- 
structed, and prayed with. Often the healings were gradual. 
Consequently, many remained weeks and months in their care. 

Very remarkable were her patience and ability to control 
insane persons. With greatest pity she studied each case and 
its cause, unraveling the difficulties. Choice sacred music was 
often the means of quieting them and securing desires for Di- 
vine help. Blessed were the deliverances. 

Deaths in the home stirred envious physicians to activity. 
Opposition was set on foot, and the supp-ession of the insti- 
tution was commanded by the town council of Zurich. Doro- 
thea appealed from court to court, and finally the decis'o- 
was reversed, and she was allowed to continue her good work. 

A second storm broke upon them in 1861 . She was fined 
one hundred and fifty francs, and ordered to dismss the sick. 
This she could not do. Again she flew to her Refuge. Daniel 
6: 26, 27, was given her: "I make a decree, that in every 
dominion of my kingdom, men tremble and fear before the 
God of Daniel. For he is the living God, and steadfast for- 
ever." Lawyer Spondlin undertook her defense gratuitously. 
The magistrates gave this decision: "Inasmuch as this insti- 
tution was carried on quite differently to any other, employ- 
ing no medicine, and having as a primary object benefit to the 
souls of the patients, Dorothea Trudel was not guilty of trans- 
gressing against the laws of physic, and was at liberty to carry 
on her work." 

As a result of this trial, the demand for admittance be- 
came so great that only a small proportion of the applicants 
could be received. A third structure \vas built to meet the 
need . 



• DORTHEA TrUDEL 417 

"Her chief anxiety was that a spirit of prayer should rule 
and govern the home. She considered the Word of God, 
when it is not only learned, but firmly maintained, to be the 
true medicine. She had Bible lessons, attended by most of 
the patients ; nor did she neglect proper discipline and firmness ; 
so that notwithstanding all the love she manifested to the 
mentally disordered, she never suffered their wills to rise in op- 
position to hers. 

A lady had so injured her knee by a fall that for weeks 
she lay in greatest agony. The doctor declared that dropsy 
would supervene, but the heavenly Physician fulfilled those 
promises which will abide until the end of the world, and by 
prayer the knee was cured in twenty-four hours, and the 
swelling vanished. 

Before the third building was completed this frail woman, 
of multiplied labors and ministrations to others, went down 
with fever, contracted by visiting among those ill with a preva- 
lent fever in the village. She had once said that she believed 
the Lord would take her quickly when her work on earth was 
done. During her sickness of almost two weeks, her fervent 
spirit was constantly praying. Powers of darkness closed in 
about her. Against this pressure she bravely battled, and be- 
fore her death she broke out in triumph over every spirit foe. 
She literally prayed herself into Heaven. Her works do fol- 
low her. 

In the same simplicity and humble trust, with no preten- 
sions to greatness, nor courting publicity, the work was con- 
tinued by Samuel Zeller, to whom she had willed the prop- 
erty. 

She died in her forty-eighth year, having "diligently fol- 
lowed every good work," and having proven in behalf of hun- 
dreds that "the prayer of faith shall save the sick.'* 



JAMES HUDSON TAYLOR 



J HUDSON TAYLOR, son of James Taylor, was born 
• in Yorkshire, England, May 21, 1832. The father 
was a Spirit-filled evangelist. He had felt the sad condition 
of the millions of heathen China, and being himself unable to 
go to that far-away people, he was led to pray that God would 
give him a son devoted to that blessed but difficult task. How- 
ever, they said nothing of this particular desire to the son of 
their faith and prayers. Hudson made no profession of relig- 
ion, and was becoming skeptical, looking at the inconsistencies 
of professing Christians. One day when his holy mother was 
absent from home he took up a tract to read to while away 
the time, intending to lay it down when he reached the serious 
application. The "finished work of Christ" seemed in a spe- 
cial way opened to his spiritual understanding. Then came 
the thought, "If the whole work was finished, and the whole 
debt paid, what is there left for me to do?" Then the joy- 
ful conviction dawned upon his soul that there was nothing to 
be done but to fall down on one's knees, and accepting this 
Savior and His salvation, to praise Him forever more. Thus 
he became a joyful Christian. After a few days he confided 
his happy secret to his sister, who promised not to tell any one. 
Two weeks later, when his dear mother returned home, he was 
the first to meet her at the door and tell her the good news. 
She replied, "I know, my boy. I have been rejoicing for a 
fortnight in the glad tidings you have to tell me." "Why, has 

418 





James Hudson Taylor 



James Hudson Taylor 421 

Amelia broken her promise?" asked Hudson. "She said she 
would tell no one." The dear mother then told him that she 
heard the tidings not from man, but from Heaven. On the 
very afternoon when he found his Savior, his mother, eighty 
miles away, went alone to her room, feeling that her leisure 
gave her special opportunity to prevail for her boy, yet unsaved. 
She turned the key in the door, resolving not to leave the spot 
until her prayers were answered. Hour after hour she held 
on, until she could pray no longer. Her petitions were turned 
to praise, and the Spirit taught her that her petition was al- 
ready granted. 

"Saved under circumstances like these, it was, perhaps, 
natural that, from the commencement of my Christian life, I 
was led to feel that the promises were very real, and that 
prayer was in sober, matter-of-fact transacting business with 
God. 

"Not many months after my conversion, having a leisure 
afternoon, I retired to my own chamber to spend it largely in 
communion with God. In the gladness of my heart, I poured 
out my soul before God, and again confessing my grateful 
love to Him who had done everything for me, I besought Him 
to give me some work to do for Him, as an outlet for love and 
gratitude — some self-denying work, no matter what it might 
be, however trying or trivial; something with which He would 
be pleased, and that I might do directly for Him who had done 
so much for me. Well do I remember, as in unreserved con- 
secration I put myself, my life, my friends, my all, upon the 
altar, the deep solemnity that came over my soul, with the as- 
surance that my offering was accepted. The presence of God 
became unutterably real and blessed; and though but a child 
of fifteen, I remember stretching myself on the ground, and ly- 



422 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ing there silent before Him with unspeakable awe and unspeak- 
able joy. 

"For what service I was accepted I knew not, but a deep 
consciousness that I was no longer my own took possession of 
me, which has never since been effaced. It became a very 
practical consciousness. Two or three years later propositions 
of an unusually favorable nature were made to me with regard 
to medical study, on the condition of my becoming apprenticed 
to the medical man who was my friend and teacher. But I 
felt I dared not accept any binding engagement. I was not 
my own to give myself away; for I knew not when or how 
He whose alone I was might call for service. 

"Within a few months of this time of consecration the im- 
pression was wrought into my soul that it was in China the 
Lord wanted me. It seemed highly probable the work to 
which I was thus called might cost my life, for China was not 
then open as it is now. I learned that the Congregational 
minister of my native town possessed a copy of Medhurst's 
China, and I called upon him to ask a loan of the book. This 
he kindly granted, asking me why I wished to read it. 'And 
how do you propose to go there?' he inquired. I answered 
that I did not at all know; that it seemed probable that I 
should need to do as the Twelve and the Seventy had done — 
go without purse or scrip, relying on Him who had called me 
to supply all my need. Kindly placing his hand upon my 
shoulder, the minister replied, 'Ah, my boy, as you grow older 
you will get wiser than that.' 

"I have grown older since then, but not wiser. I am more 
than ever convinced that if we were to take the directions of 
our Master, and the assurances He gave to His first disciples 
more fully as our guide, we should find them just as suited to 
our times as to those in which they were originally given.'* 



James Hudson Taylor ' 423 

Again we see the importance and blessedness of early con- 
version. When God can control young life, shape its pur- 
poses, and mould the character. He can make a vessel more 
fitted to honor and fruitfulness. 

We also note an unusual thing. How rare for a youth to 
asJi the Lord for a Divine commission for service, no matter 
how trivial or difficult! Perhaps more would find a place of 
usefulness in the great harvest field if they thus whole-heartedly 
volunteered for service. 

His Divine call became the controlling and shaping force 
in his life. It became a simple, solemn, engrossing fact, that 
his life-work was to be in China, and to fit himself for that 
great responsibility became his sole concern. After preparatory 
study at home, he went to Hull for medical and surgical train- 
ing, becoming assistant to a surgeon of wide practice. "This 
one thing I do," impresses the student of his life. To be a 
missionary in China was the absorbing theme of his thought, 
prayers and effort. No other ambition ever gained a foot- 
hold. To acquire earthly gain, or the esteem of men, never 
tainted his pure soul. 

He proved his fitness for labor in dark China by going 
into the highways and hedges, giving out literature, talking 
and praying with needy souls, and dividing with the hungry 
or needy his little earnings. One who is not a soul-winner at 
home will never be a soul-winner when surrounded by gross 
heathen darkness. One who is lazy, idle, indifferent, selfish, 
at home will never make a successful missionary abroad, no 
matter how much religion he may profess. The best way to 
prepare for a greater work is to be faithful in that which is 
least. The best way to convince the church that you have a 
heavenly commission is to do with your might what your hands 



424 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

find to do. Don't wait for another to give you a job. Find 
one. • 

Moreover, he trained his faith, so that when he should 
have no other resource but God, in China, the promises of God 
would be his unfailing bulwark of defense, his store-house of 
supply, his guide in untried paths. 

The prel.minavy training of his faith is most interesting. 
He settled the question that he ought to give at least one-tenth 
of his income. In order to do so, he took less comfortable 
quarters, in the suburbs, walking the extra distance to his 
work, and boarding himself. Plain gruel of rice or oatmeal 
was his usual morning and evening meal, while for dinner he 
ate some apples. In this way he not only tithed, but found 
that he could give about two-thirds of his income to the Lord's 
work. He gave up butter and milk as luxuries. 

"The effect of the blessed hope of the Lord appearing at 
any time led me to look carefully through my little library to 
see if there were any books there that were not needed or likely 
to be of further service, and to examine my small wardrobe, 
to be quite sure that it contained nothing that I should be sorry 
to give account of should the Master come at once. The re- 
sult was that the library was considerably diminished, to the 
benefit of some poor neighbors, and to the far greater benefit 
of my own soul, and that I found I had articles of clothing 
also whxh might be put to better advantage in other directions. 
. "It has been very helpful to me, from time to time through 
life, to act again in a similar way; and I have never gone 
through my house, from basement to attic, with this object in 
view, without receiving a great accession of spiritual joy and 
blessing. I believe we are in danger of accumulating things 
which would be useful to others, while not needed by our- 
selves, and the retention of which entails loss of blessing. If 



James Hudson Taylor 425 

the whole resources of the Church of God were well utilized, 
how much more might be accomplished. How many poor 
might be fed, and naked clothed, and to how many of those 
as yet unreached the Gospel might be preached. Let me ad- 
vise this line of things as a constant habit of mind, and a profit- 
able course to be practically adopted whenever circumstances 
permit. "My experience was, that the less I spent on myself, 
and the more I gave away, the fuller of happiness and bless- 
ing did my soul become. Unspeakable joy all the day long, 
and every day, was my happy possession. God, even my God, 

was a living, bright reality, and all I had to do was joyful ser- 

»» 
vice. 

On one occasion, when called late one Sabbath night, after 
a strenuous day, to visit a destitute family in a poor tenement, 
he tried to talk to them of salvation, but he felt choked. Then 
he tried to pray. But, contrary to his usual liberty, he could 
scarcely pray. He had only half a crown left in his pocket, 
almost no food in his humble lodgings, and his employer was 
behind in paying him his salary. To part with his last coin 
in such circumstances was not an easy step of faith. But the 
poor woman and new-born babe were almost expiring, and the 
entire family was suffering from hunger. Taylor gained the 
victory, gave the man his last coin, and at once the tides of 
blessing flooded his happy soul. The very next morning he 
received in the mail an envelope containing a pair of gloves 
and half a sovereign, with no indication of the owner's name. 
"Praise the Lord!" he exclaimed. "Four hundred percent 
for twelve hours' investment; that is good interest. How glad 
the merchants of Hull would be if they could lend their money 
at such a rate!" 

While taking a medical course in London, in dissecting a 
dead body, he became infected with a malignant fever. Oth- 



426 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ers entertained no hope of his recovery, but he himself was con- 
fident he had a work to do in China, and therefore the Lord 
would deliver him. And so it proved to be. In marvelous 
ways the Lord provided for him and raised him up. All these 
things encouraged his faith and improved his spiritual equip-, 
ment for his life work. 

In 1853 he sailed from Liverpool for Shanghai. Many 
years later, writing of the occasion, Mr. Taylor said: "Thirty 
years ago, when I was leaving the shores of England for China, 
my beloved (now sainted) mother came to see me off from 
Liverpool. Never shall I forget that day, nor how she went 
with me into the little cabin that was to be my home for nearly 
six long months. With a mother's loving hand she smoothed 
the little bed. She sat by my side, and joined me in the last 
hymn we should sing together before the long parting. We 
knelt down, and she prayed — the last mother's prayer I was 
to hear before starting for China. Then notice was given that 
we must separate, and we had to say 'good-bye,' never ex- 
pecting to meet on earth again. We parted, and she went on 
shore, giving me her blessing. I stood alone on deck, and she 
followed the ship as we moved toward the dock gates. As we 
passed through the gates, and the separation really commenced, 
I shall never forget the cry of anguish wrung from that 
mother's heart. It went through me like a knife. I never 
knew so fully, until then, what 'God so loved the world* 
meant. And I am quite sure that my precious mother learned 
more of the love of God to the perishing in that hour than in 
all her life before." 

The voyage occupied almost six months. Of the latter 
part of the voyage he writes: "We lost a good deal of time 
on the equator from calms; and when we finally reached the 
Eastern Archipelago we were again detained from the same 



James Hudson Taylor 427 

cause. Usually a breeze would spring up soon after sunset, 
and last until about dawn. The utmost use was made of it, 
but during the day we would lie still with flapping sails, often 
drifting back and losing a good deal of the advantage we had 
gained during the night. 

"This happened notably on one occasion, when in danger- 
ous proximity to the north of New Guinea. Saturday night 
had brought us to a point some thirty miles off land, but dur- 
ing the Sunday morning service, which was held on deck, I 
could not fail to notice that the captain looked troubled, and 
frequently went over to the side of the ship. When the ser- 
vice was ended I learned from him the cause — a four-knot cur- 
rent was carrying us rapidly towards some sunken reefs, and 
we were already so near some that it seemed improbable that 
we should get through the afternoon in safety. After dinner 
the life-boat was put out, and all hands endeavored, without 
success, to turn the ship's head from the shore. As we drifted 
nearer we could plainly see the natives rushing about the sands 
and lighting fires every here and there. The captain's horn- 
book informed him that these people were cannibals, and that 
our position was not a little alarming. 

After standmg together on the deck some time in silence, 
the captain said to me, 'Well, we have done everything that 
can be done; we can only await the result.' A thought oc- 
curred to me, and I replied, 'No, there is one thing we have 
not done yet.' 'What is it?' he queried. 'Four of us on 
board are Christians,' I answered. 'Let us each retire to his 
own cabin, and in agreed prayer ask the Lord to give us im- 
mediately a breeze. He can as easily send it now as at sun- 
set.' 

"The captain agreed to this proposal, I went and spoke 
to the other two men, and after prayer with the carpenter we 



428 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

all four retired to wait upon God. I had a good but very 
brief season in prayer, and then felt so satisfied that our re- 
quest was gremted that I could not continue asking, and very 
soon went up again on deck. The first officer — a godless man 
— was in charge. I went over and asked him to let down the 
clews or corners of the mainsail. He answered, 'What would 
be the good of that?' I told him we had been asking a wind 
from God, that it was coming immediately, and we were so 
near the reef by this time that there was not a minute to lose. 
With a look of incredulity and contempt, he said with an oath 
that he would rather see a wind than hear of it. But while he 
was speaking I watched his eye, and followed it up to the 
royal (the topmost sail), and there, sure enough, the corner of 
the sail was beginning to tremble in the coming breeze. 'Don't 
you see the wind is coming? Look at the royal!' I exclaimed. 
'No, it's only a cat's-paw,' he rejoined (a mere puff of wind). 
'Cat's-paw or not,' I cried, 'pray let down the mainsail, and let 
us have the benefit!' 

"This he was not slow to do. In another minute the heavy 
tread of the men on deck brought up the captain from his cabin 
to see what was the matter; and sure enough the breeze had 
come. In a few minutes we were ploughing our way at six or 
seven knots an hour through the water, and the multitude of 
naked savages whom we had seen on the beach had no wreck- 
age that night. 

China was at that time in a very unsettled condition, and 
in every native uprising or disturbance the lives of foreigners 
were in danger. The roof of Taylor's house was torn up by 
a ball. He soon had to abandon it. The cold, the hunger, 
the watchings and sleepless nights of danger, and the feeling 
at times of utter isolation and helplessness, were patiently 
borne, and his faith remained anchored in his heavenly Father, 



James Hudson Taylor 429 

who works all things together for good to those who love Him. 

In 1856 he resigned his connection with the Missionary 
Society which had sent him out, retaining friendly relations 
with them, and still reporting his work. But it was a convic- 
tion with him that we should owe no man anything, and know- 
ing that their pay was often from borrowed money, he and his 
friend, Mr. Jones, severed relations with the society, choosing 
to simply trust God to supply all their needs. 

In 1858 he married Miss Dyer, who had spent several 
years in China, and was in every way well fitted to be a spir- 
itual helpmeet. In 1 860 they returned to England for the 
recuperation of Mr. Taylor's health. It proved to be an im- 
portant link in the founding of the China Inland Mission. The 
unevangelized millions of China lay upon his heart, and he 
groaned beneath the burden. God showed him that for the 
asking he could have men and money to send laborers into 
every unevangelized province of China. Mr. Taylor could 
believe God for the volunteers, and for the supply of funds, 
but the breadth and responsibility of such an undertaking al- 
most staggered him. He pondered and prayed, but discussed 
it with no one. His wife did not know the cause of his de- 
layed recovery. But after four or five months, one Sabbath, 
alone by the seaside, for hours he wrestled in agony before the 
Lord, until his faith compassed the task, and he could then be- 
lieve that God, who would give the workers and means to send 
them, would manage also on the field, keeping the workers in 
victory, harmony and contentment, ordering each step of the 
way, and proving Himself sufficient for every emergency. The 
great burden was lifted from his mind, and hs health at once 
improved. 

He was called here and there to address the people con- 
cerning China. This he did, on condition that no collection 



430 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

be taken. He made no personal appeals for money. From 
a full heart he stated China's crying need, and the Lord's 
parting injunction to preach the Gospel to every creature. Then 
he bade the people go alone before God, and let Him show 
them what to do. He did not want them to ease themselves 
by giving a pittance, and then go home comforting themselves 
that they had done their duty. He wanted Christian people 
to really get the great cause upon their hearts, and, in fact, if 
not in person, to become foreign missionaries to their dying 
day. Moreover, as he was not going out under a denomina- 
tion, he did not want to detract funds from any former mis- 
sionary channel. The result was that in a few months seven 
men, ten women, and four children were ready to sail in the 
good ship "Lammermuir" to the far-away land. None were 
promised a salary. They simply relied upon God to supply 
all their needs. As the time approached for the sailing, dur- 
ing a period of one month and six days, one hundred and sev- 
enty pounds (about $850) were received. But at least two 
thousand pounds (about $10,000) were needed. The workers 
agreed to make it a private subject of prayer every day for 
one month, telling no one but the Lord. And during the next 
month and six days nineteen hundred and seventy pounds were 
received. They had a time of thanksgiving and rejoicing in 
the Lord. During the third month and six days more than five 
hundred pounds additional was received, totaling two thousand, 
six hundred and seventy-three pounds (over $13,000) ! 

We could not take space to detail the growth of the work. 
Through many difficulties, losses and suffering, they plodded 
on in their great task of carrying the Gospel to the eleven 
provinces yet unevangelized. They wore the native dress, ate 
with chop-sticks, and adapted themselves to Chinese customs, 
in order to get nearer to them to do them good. True, their 



James Hudson Taylor ■ 431 

lives were in peril more than once, their houses almost torn 
down, or their bodies bruised with stoning, but the love of 
Jesus prevailed. Death claimed the faithful mother, Mrs. 
Taylor, after twelve beautiful years of co-laboring with her 
self-sacrificing husband. She and three of her children found 
their graves in China. Three lived to bless their father's life 
and join with him in his great task of spreading the Gospel. 

The China Inland Mission, "with no financial backing 
except the promises of God, has steadily progressed until to- 
day there are connected with it more than one thousand mis- 
sionaries, with one thousand paid native helpers, and two thou- 
sand self-supporting helpers, working in two hundred stations 
and one thousand out-stations. There are more than thirty-five 
thousand native converts now in fellov/ship, and more than fifty 
thousand have been baptized since the mission was opened. 
And the remarkable thing is that no backward step has ever 
been taken for lack of funds.*' 

In 1 900 his health completely broke down. It was no- 
ticed as he addressed the Ecumenical Conference, held in Bos- 
ton, U.S.A., that he repeated twenty times or more these 
words : 

"You may trust the Lord too little, but you can never 
trust Him too much." 

There was something poetic and memorable about the old 
veteran of Jesus Christ repeating so often what had been the 
secret of his fruitfulness and bulwark of his power. After five 
years' absence from the field, and comparative rest, he felt re- 
vived enough to visit the land of his adoption once more. At 
Chang-sha, the capital of the Hu-nan province, his call to 
eternal rest and reward came. He held a service for the Chin- 
ese the very day that he fell asleep in Jesus. His works do 
follow him. 



SUSANNA WESLEY 



CUSANNA WESLEY was the talented daughter of a 
^^ dissenting minister, of ripe learning and good character. 
Her bent for learning is seen in the fact that, ^ while yet in her 
teens, she knew Latin, Greek, French, and her native English. 
Her ability for sober thinking is seen in that when only thir- 
teen years old she weighed her father's theology and dissent- 
ing views in the balance of her own judgment, and seriously 
decided that he was wrong. Modern girls would more likely 
be planning for good times and fashionable gowns. Devout, 
thoughtful, amiable and beautiful, Susanna was the favorite 
child of her father, and her religious choice made no breach 
between them. 

Abel Stevens, LL. D., writes: "She showed a d'scrim- 
inative judgment of books and men, and, without any unique 
traits of genius, presents perhaps one of the completest char- 
acters, moral and intellectual, to be found in the history of 
her sex. She has left us no proof of poetical talent, and the 
genius of her children in this respect seems to have been in- 
herited from their father, whose passionate love of the art 
and unwearied attempts at rhythm, if not poetry, may also 
account for the hereditary talent of the family in music. Her 
features were slight, but almost classical in their regularity. 
They were thoroughly Wesleyan, affording proof that John 
Wesley inherited from his mother not only his best moral and 
intellectual traits, t>ut those of his physiognomy. 

432 







Susanna Wesley 



Susanna Wesley 485 

She devoted one hour every morning and evening to medi- 
tation and prayer. She wrote: "If comparatively to despise 
and undervalue all the world contains, which is esteemed great, 
fair or good; if earnestly to desire Thee, Thy favor. Thy ac- 
ceptance. Thyself, rather than any or all things Thou hast cre- 
ated, be to love Thee, I do love Thee." 

She was married at the age of nineteen to Samuel Wesley, 
a little, hot-headed, strong-willed preacher of the Church of 
England. His ministerial ancestors had also been dissenters, 
and suffered much for their faith. He was a well-meaning 
but impracticable man, never learning how to bring his ex- 
penses within his income, going away to ministerial conven- 
tions at great expense, or being imprisoned for debt, and leaving 
his brave, overburdened wife to look after her home, and the 
parish, and to secure bread for their too numerous family. 

She bore nineteen children in twenty-one years. Almost 
one-half of them died in infancy, probably due to the fact of 
the mother's ill-health and their births being too close together. 
In a letter to his archbishop Samuel Wesley wrote: "Last 
night my wife brought me a few children. There are but 
two yet, a boy and a girl. We have had four in two years 
and a day, three of whom are living." He remarks that his 
cash in hand at the time was six shillings, or about seventy- 
five cents. 

Consider the obstacles against which Mrs. Wesley strug- 
gled, and her abilities rise higher in one's estimation. When 
asked if she ever was without bread, she replied: "My lord, 
strictly speaking, I never did want bread. But then I had 
so much care to get it before it was eaten, and to pay for it 
after, as has often made it very unpleasant to me; and I think 
to have bread under such terms is the next degree of wretch- 



436 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

edness to having none at all." One of the daughters spoke of 
the intolerable want which cifflicted them: 

"She was an ideal wife, incomparably superior to her hus- 
band, and yet herself lovingly blind to the fact. She might 
have talked philosophy with Hypatia, or discussed Latin and 
Greek with Lady Jane Grey. They were a strong-willed cou- 
ple, accustomed to think for themselves. It may be taken for 
granted, however, that when they differed, the wife was usu- 
ally in the right. Yet she practised towards her husband the 
sweetest wifely obedience. In his home he was practically 
a despot, his wife calling him "My Master," and his children, 
when writing to him, addressing him, "Honored Sir." This 
model wife managed her large responsibilities with method — 
one secret of her success. Rising, meals, household duties, all 
were done like clock-work. To her other numerous cares she 
added that of school-mistress, daily and systematically instruct- 
ing her children. Religion and system marked the habitual 
life of the household. 

The children, naturally strong-willed, were taught to obey. 
To be governed is the best way to learn to govern one's self. 
One unchangeable rule was that no child should have einy- 
thing for which it cried — an excellent moral training. Loud 
crying was allowed on no occasion after a child was about 
twelve months old. "The subjecting the will," she wrote, "is 
a thing which must be done at once, and the sooner the better. 
This is the only strong and rational foundation of a religious 
education, without which both precept and example will be 
ineffectual. But when this is thoroughly done, then a child is 
capable of being governed by the reason and piety of its 
parents till its own understeinding comes to maturity, and the 
principles of religion have taken root in the mind. In the es- 
teem of the world, they pass for kind and indulgent whom I 



Susanna Wesley 437 

call cruel parents, who permit their children to form habits 
which they know must afterwards be broken." Ten of her 
children lived to maturity, became Christians, and every one 
died "in the Lord." 

The religious atmosphere of the home may have been a 
little legalistic, but the children learned to keep the Sabbath 
day holy, to be quiet at family prayer, and to ask a blessing im- 
mediately after, by signs, before they could kneel or speak. 
They learned to reverence God, and to be ruled by duty, not 
mere caprice. Certain hours were assigned each week to each 
member of the family, at which time the mother took the child 
alone into a kind of confessional, and dealt with each about 
his soul. Thursday evening was her hour for John, and even 
in later life, that evening of the week seemed especially sacred 
to him. The rectory was destroyed by fire, and little John 
was the last of the family rescued after his life had been al- 
most despaired of. His mother wrote: "I do intend to be 
more particularly careful of the soul of this child that Thou 
hast so mercifully provided for than ever I have been, that I 
may do my endeavor to instill into his mind the principles of 
true religion and virtue. Lord, give me grace to do it sin- 
cerely and prudently, and bless my attempt with good success." 

Some might have criticised Susanna Wesley as cruel and 
Spartan-like in her home administration. But how else can a 
large family be successfully trained but by sound common 
sense and system? When we have given to the world sons 
who have surpassed hers in holiness of life and usefulness, then 
only may we pose as critics. 

The strong bond of affection and respect for her judgment, 
which the sons ever held for her, is seen m the correspondence 
which they maintained with her even late in life. How often 
children outgrow their parents, and outlive the latter's close 



438 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

sympathy in their affairs. Not so in his case. She was the 
human spring to their ambitions, their safe counsellor, their 
tender and faithful helper spiritually. Of their efforts in the 
Holy Club at Oxford she wrote: "I heartily join with your 
small society in all their pious and charitable actions. May 
you still in such good works go on and prosper! Though 
absent in body, I am with you in spirit, and daily recommend 
you all to Divine providence." When she was a widovv, and 
her consent was sought that John and Charles might go as 
missionaries to Georgia, she replied: "If I had twenty sons. 
I should rejoice that they were all so employed, though I 
should never see them again." 

She approved field preaching, and stood by the side of her 
son John as he preached to twenty thousand on Kennington 
Common. She recognized the usefulness of a "lay ministry," 
and encouraged her son in permitting unordained men to preach 
the gospel. This was a great revolt against the established 
order and the ecclesiasticism which had fettered Christianity 
for fifteen hundred years. Moreover, in an unassuming way, 
she addressed assemblies held in her own home, and realized 
that fields of usefulness were open to women under the anointing 
of the Lord. Her cool balance of judgment, masculine mental 
abilities, careful method in execution, governing qualities, and 
strong religious propensities reappear in her children: John, 
the human means of the greatest revival epoch of many cen- 
turies; Charles, the sweet singer and successful evangelist, and 
greatest hymn-writer; Samuel, a minister of keen wit and large 
intellect. 

The life of the girls of the home was more secluded, and 
the married life of some of them was very sad ; but their mental 
and soul qualities shine out from the shadows. Martha mar- 
ried a preacher who shifted from one doctrine to another, 



Susanna Wesley 439 

finally becoming a polygamist. At his death he said of her, 
"I have injured an angel, an angel that never reproved me." 
She had nursed his mistresses, cared for his illegitimate chil- 
dren, kept her intellect bright, wore a serene face amid all 
troubles, and died in triumph of faith and peace. She said, 
"Evil was not kept from me, but evil has been kept from harm- 
ing me.'* 

When, in her seventy-third year, her children were sum- 
moned to her death-bed, she begged that they sing a hymn. 
And while her children softly sang her requiem, her happy 
spirit took its flight, July 23, 1 742. In the grave-yard, near 
City Road Chapel, which John Wesley built, lies her clay. 
Her epitaph is the composition of Charles Wesley. 

''SUSANNA WESLEY, 
(Aged sevouty-tliree) 

In sure and certain hope to rise, 
And claim her mansion in the skies ; 
A Christian here, her flesh laid down, 
Her cross exchanging for a crown." 



JOHN WESLEY 



WHY is the name of John Wesley honored in every land? 
What has given him eminence in ecclesiastical and secu- 
lar history? True, he was a voluminous writer, having writ- 
ten or abridged over three hundred volumes. He was a polished 
scholar, and his literary productions are of enduring merit, his 
Journal being ranked with Horace Walpole's ''Letters,'' and 
Boswell's ''Johnson \ and his best production, the "Appeal to 
Men of Reason and Religion \ being famous for its clear, 
forceful English and apt logic. "Wesley's short, packed, 
monosyllabic sentences are a perfect medium for the swiftest 
logic the human brain can shape, and they reflect some of the 
loftiest emotions the human soul can know." 

While his contributions to literature were almost all of a 
religious character, and written generally for the express pur- 
pose of placing helpful spiritual literature in the hands of his 
adherents among the common people, yet they have a rank in 
literature not unworthy of honor equal to Shakespeare, inas- 
much as that which quickens both the spirit and intellect is 
more commendable than that which is merely instructive. 

Yet not for his achievements in the field of literature is his 
memory most hallowed today. 

True, he addressed the largest assemblies of enthusiastic 
listeners ever gathered to receive a message, political or relig- 
ious, from human lips, and that not for a brief campaign,' but 
for half a century! No statesman or orator has ever equaled 

440 




John Wesley 



John Wesley 448 

his record, either in the frequency or grand total of his ad- 
dresses, or his continued and sustained popularity, even when 
he had passed his eightieth year! 

Yet not because he was a preacher of most convincing 
logic, profound weight., and sublime power in the Holy Ghost, 
is his name held in everlasting remembrance. 

It is true, he organized the largest and greatest church 
known to Protestantism. From 300 preachers and 76,000 
laymen at Wesley's death, Methodism grew to 49,000 min- 
isters in its pulpits, and over 30,000,000 hearers in its pews! 
It has planted its Gospel banner in every nation!* 



*See ''Wesley and His Century ,'* by W. H. Fitchett," 
1908. 

Its polity is such a perfect mechanism for effectual church 
organization and government that it remains today unchanged 
in its essential features from the original plan of its great 
founder. Macauley says that Wesley had a "genius for gov- 
ernment not inferior to Richelieu." 

Methodism, in all its various and vigorous denominational 
branches, still carries the evangelical stamp of its infancy, and 
her great biblical doctrines, when preached in their purity, by 
faithful ministers of the Gospel, bear the same fruitage of pow- 
erful conviction to the ungodly, and full salvation to the happy 
believer, as in those early days when crowds ranging from five 
to thirty thousand hung eagerly upon the message of the zealous 
and holy triumvirate, John and Charles Wesley, and George 
Whitefield. 

In fact, Wesley built better than he knew, and could any- 
one have foretold to what dimensions the mustard seed of truth 
would grow in the course of time, Wesley himself would likely 
have been incredulous. 



444 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

But had he been merely a literary genius, or a truly great 
preacher, or the founder of an enduring sect, he would not 
claim today the place in secular history, or the universal re- 
spect and religious prestige now, without exception, granted to 
his memory. 

The fact is, that his influence has reached far beyond the 
bounds of the denomination he founded, brought a new pulse 
of vigor to the lifeless established Church of his day, awakened 
the slumbering conscience of the masses, roused the clergy from 
their lethargy, wine-bibbing and card-playing, created new 
ideals for the nation, revived the authority of the Word of God 
and brought a wholesome, saving influence throughout the so- 
cial, political and religious life of his century, not only in the 
United Kingdom, but throughout the world. 

"Wesley's true monument is not the church that beais his 
name. It is the England of the tv/entieth century! Nay, it is 
the whole changed temper of the modern world; the new ideals 
in its politics, the new spirit in its religion, the new standard 
in its philanthropy. Who wants to understand Wesley's work 
must contrast the moral temper of the eighteenth century with 
that of the twentieth century, for one of the greatest factors in 
producing the wonderful change discoverable is Wesley hm- 
self." 

Southey asserts that Wesley is "the most influential mind 
of the last century; the man who will have produced the great- 
est effects, centuries or perhaps millenniums hence, if the pres- 
ent race of men should continue so long." 

At the time of Wesley's birth, "Christianity under Eng- 
lish skies was never, before or since, so near the death point." 

Its literature was foul, its laws were cruel, its religion was 
without life or faith. "The poor were ignorant and brutal to 



John Wesley 445 

utter disbelief of religion, linked a foulness of life now hap- 
pily almost inconceivable. The fatal thing in the religion of 
that age was that it had ceased to be a life, or to touch life. 
It was exhausted of its dynamic elements." 

Then came the great revival, which has never fully spent 
its force. And John Wesley, in the Lord's hands, was the 
leading human figure in that great religious awakening. 

PARENTAGE AND CHILDHOOD. 

"The Wesley family was a household of strong natures, 
strongly ruled, and ruled to noble ends. A cluster of bright, 
vehement, argumentative boys and girls, living by a clean and 
high code, and on the plainest fare; but, drilled to soft tones, 
to pretty formal courtesies, with learning as an ideal, duty as 
an atmosphere, and the fear of God as a law. Religion was 
in the home, as it ought to be, an atmosphere." 

The busy mother managed her numerous brood with un- 
usual wisdom, firmness and grace. Her wise counsel, careful 
religious instruction, and motherly sympathy, moulded the 
lives of her family in habits of obedience, reverence, frugality, 
industry and economy, and her clear-brained judgment and 
devoted faithfulness was rewarded in giving to the world chil- 
dren that were remarkable in holiness, scholarship and use- 
fulness. 

The little, irascible, strong-willed and impracticable father 
attended to his parish duties as rector of Epworth, frequently 
left home and family to attend religious convocations (though 
the family treasury was sometimes drained to bear such ex- 
pense), and wrote laborious rhymes. 

Samuel, the eldest son, was born in 1692, John in 1 703, 
and Charles in 1 708. 

When John was six years old, all the family but him es- 



446 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

caped from the burning rectory one night. The terrified child 
awoke to find his room wrapped in flames. It was impossible 
to rescue him from the stairs. An ingenious fellow rescued 
the horror-stricken lad by standing on the shoulders of another 
and reaching him at the window upstairs. The grateful father 
at once dropped on his knees and thanked God for the deliv- 
erance. The mother thereafter felt a particular charge to train 
this child in Bible paths. She devoted an hour a week to 
each child, privately, to pray with it and offer correction and 
advice, as needed. Thursday evening was John's hour, and 
even in later life the memory of these hallowed hours, alone 
with God and mother, made Thursday evening an especially 
sacred time. 

The rescue from, the crumbling, burning rectory was to 
John a very realistic picture of the rescue of a lost soul from 
the fire that never shall be quenched. 

One of the very interesting and inexplainable incidents in 
the home life of the Epworth rectory is that of Old Jeffrey, 
an imp or ghost, who made his presence known usually between 
nine and ten o'clock at night, by mysterious raps on doors and 
walls, thumps on the floor, smashing of crockery, rattling of 
chains, treading of feet, resisting the opening of doors, etc. At 
first, the children trembled in their sleep when this unseen vis- 
itor was making his presence known. He proved a harmless 
visitor, and the children came to jokingly remark, when they 
heard his noisy operations, "Old Jeffrey has come. It is time 
to go to sleep." The father and mother pursued him from 
room to room, tried to engage him in conversation, and by 
various tests and searchings to discover the mystery, but to this 
day it remains unsolved. Samuel Wesley, the eldest son, 
says: "Wit might find many interpretations, but wisdom 
none." 




Samuel Wesley, Jr. 



John Wesley 449 

John was a serious lad, grave, silent, patient, meditative, 
always inquiring into the reason of things. When eleven years 
old, he was sent from the protection of that model home to 
Charterhouse school. Here the hateful fag system prevailed, 
and the older and stronger boys robbed the younger ones of 
their meat, and in many ways made their lives hard. But the 
sturdy lad from Epworth rectory was equal to it, and the hajdy 
discipline of the school supplemented his sensible training at 
home. His habits of plain, meager diet, early rising, daily 
exercise in the fresh air, and enduring hardships, gave him a 
little, trim, muscular body, the complexion of a girl, habits of 
untiring industry, and ability for hard work never surpassed, 
and rarely, if ever, equaled. 

In 1 720 he became a student at the great university at 
Oxford. The morals and general habits of the students were 
very loose. However, Wesley did not relax his diligence. He 
was a model student, doing everything with method and close 
application. He took his Bachelor's degree in 1 724, became 
Fellow of Lincoln in 1725, was elected Lecturer of Greek 
and Moderator of the Classes a year later, and in 1 727 he 
took his Master's degree. 

Samuel, his elder brother, was at that time an instructor 
in Westminster, and Charles, the younger brother, then seven- 
teen years old, had a scholarship at Christ Church, Oxford. 
The Wesley family was, by nature and habit, a studious group. 

HIS SEARCH FOR SALVATION. 

The mother of the Wesley s was an heroic woman, reso- 
lute and methodical in her religion. In addition to being the 
mother of nineteen children, she was^ their school-teacher, al- 
most their bread-winner, gave an hour per week to each child's 
spiritual examination an3 instruction, and yet managed, by her 



450 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

unvarying methods, to take an hour in the early morning each 
day alone with God, and another hour regularly in the eve- 
ning, and generally an hour at noon. Frequently she wrote 
down choice meditations which are as breaths from the upper 
world. 

The piety of her children partook of the same heroic 
stamp. The fear of offending God was always upon them. 
They gave most diligent attention to all the outward forms of 
religion, and that with a deep reverence and spirit of obedience. 
Wesley writes: *'What I then hoped to be saved by was (1 ) 
not being so bad as other people; (2) having a kindness for 
religion; (3) reading the Bible, going to church, and saying 
my prayers." 

The choice of a career is a turning point in any youth's 
life. Wesley's keen mind fitted him well to succeed as a law- 
yer, but his sober, pious mind, as well as the home influence 
and training, inclined him to the ministry. He records: "When 
I was about twenty-two, my father pressed me to enter into 
Holy Orders. I began to alter the whole order of my conver- 
sation, and to set in earnest to enter upon a new life." He 
was ordained in 1 725. 

But there seems to be a strange inversion of order in the 
ideas of son and parents. His entrance into Holy Orders was 
that he might "make religion the business of his life", and be- 
cause it might be "an inducement to greater application in the 
study of practical divinity." Moreover, he then proceeded to 
examine his own fitness for so holy a calling. "Diligence," 
said he, "led me into serious thinking." 

Mrs. Wesley proposed to her son that he examine himself, 
"that you may know whether you have a reasonable hope of 
salvation — that is, whether you are in. a state of faith and re- 
pentance, or not. If you are, the satisfaction of knowing it 



John Wesley 451 

will abundantly reward your pains. If not, you will find a 
more reasonable occasion for tears than can be met with in 
a tragedy.'* 

The spiritual fitness for such a calling, we naturally think, 
should precede the choice of so great a work. But Wesley 
chose the career, and then set about fitting himself for it! 

And now he entered upon a period of thirteen years of 
wearisome effort, tireless zeal, and disappointing results in 
seeking to make his calling and election sure. 

The writings of William Law, Jeremy Taylor and Thomas 
a Kempis profoundly influenced Wesley at this time. The Im- 
itation of Christy by a Kempis, stirred within him deeper relig- 
ious feelings than he had known before. He saw that religion 
was more than strict formalities, "that true religion was seated 
in the heart, and that God's law extended to all our thoughts, 
as well as words and actions." "I set apart an hour or two 
a day for religious retirement. I communicated (took the 
sacrament) every week; I watched against all sin, whether in 
word or deed. So that now, doing so much and living so good 
a life, I doubted not that I was a good Christian." Taylor's 
Hoi}) Living and Holy Dying taught Wesley the need of ab- 
solute simplicity and purity of intention. Law's Christian 
Perfection and Serious Call impressed him with the exceeding 
height and depth and breadth of the law of God. 

Still he hoped to be saved by more strictly keeping the 
whole law, inward and outward, and persuaded himself he 
was even then in a state of salvation. He missed God's eter- 
nal order of forgiveness first, and whole-hearted service sec- 
ond. Almost without realizing it, he substituted his own good 
life and works for the atonement in purchasing salvation. 

He spent the summer of 1 726 at home in Epworth, 
preaching for his father and pursuing his studies. *'By the 



452 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

fireside of the rectory, every evening, Wesley sat with his 
father and mother, and held high debate on great themes. To 
a mother of Susanna Wesley's grave and lofty bent, those fire- 
side talks with her brilliant and accomplished son, who came 
to her from the atmosphere of a great university, and was 
plainly on the entrance of a great career, must have been an 
exquisite pleasure." 

Looking back later upon this period of his life, he says: 
**It was many years after I was ordained deacon before Iwas 
convinced of the great truths above recited. During all that 
time I was utterly ignorant of the nature and condition of jus- 
tification. Sometimes I confounded it with sanctification, par- 
ticularly when I was in Georgia. At other times I had some 
confused notions about forgiveness of sins; but then I took it 
for granted the time of this must either be the hour of death 
or the day of judgment. I was equally ignorant of the nature 
of saving faith, apprehending it to mean no more than a firm 
assent to all the propositions contained in the Old and New 
Testaments." 

The theological ignorance of so keen a mind reminds one 
of the wise and moral Nicodemus, who needed to comprehend 
the truth, "Ye must be born again." 

John was his father's curate at Epworth and Wroote for 
over two years, and thus had actual parish work. Yet he 
seemed to influence no lives in a marked way. He drew no 
crowds, awakened not the ungodly to repentance, while his 
austere conception of religion was not generally well received. 
He had the necessary human equipment of a well-trained mind, 
ability to think clearly, and to express his thoughts forcibly, in 
crystalline language, and an intense religious zeal and devotion. 
But as yet he lacked the liberty, power and unction of the 
Holy Ghost! 



John Wesley 453 

In 1 729 he was recalled to Oxford to preside as moderator 
of the public debates, a training which helped to make him the 
formidable controversialist of later years. 

He found that his magnetic brother Charles had gathered 
about himself a group of fine young men who took life seriously, 
met together frequently for mutual spiritual benefit, gave alms 
to the poor, took the sacrament frequently (which pious ob- 
servance was regarded as a spiritual thermometer), and or- 
dered every department of life's duties with such precision that 
they were dubbed the Godly Club, Biblemoths, and Method- 
ists. The last name clung to them because of its apporpriate- 
ness, somewhat as the early followers of Christ became known 
as Christians, first in derision, then in respect. 

The pleasing personality of Charles Wesley drew men, the 
masterful individuality of John dominated them. John nat- 
urally became the leader of the Holy Club, and gave it an 
even more serious and austere stamp. They were admired by 
some, and ridiculed by many. 

His frequent eind prolonged fastings, and arduous labors, 
broke his health, bringing on hemorrhage of the lungs, but dis- 
covering to him no hidden fount of joyful salvation. No, his 
own self-righteous but earnest endeavors must prove futile. 
Saving faith is reached when every human dependence is swept 
away. As yet he had no clear conception of the real way of 
salvation verified in his own consciousness. 

His piety was of the cloistered type, clinging to the insti- 
tution where a few like-minded men incited each other to holy 
living in their nightly meetings, but dreading the atmosphere of 
the world and contaminating contact with men and affairs. 
Therefore he declined to return to Epworth and relieve his 
father of his parish cares. 

His father's health declined, and in 1 735 he died. 



454 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"Nothing in the whole story of his life is so beautiful as the 
manner of his leaving it. Years had mellowed him. Time 
had cooled the restlessness of his blood. Sickness had given 
a new perspective to his theology, a new tenderness to his 
spirit. Something of that strange vision which comes to dying 
eyes was granted the old man. He often laid his hand upon 
the head of Charles and said, 'Be steady! The Christian 
faith will surely revive in this kingdom. You shall see it, 
though I shall not.' To John he said, 'The inward witness, 
son. The inward witness! That is the strongest proof of 
Christianity.' " 

Yes, the inward witness was what John lacked, and when 
once obtained, it would transform him from a wearied escetic 
to a jubilant, victorious possessor of saving grace, and would 
make his barren ministry to blossom as the rose, and multiply 
its fruits all over the land! 

When asked to go as a missionary to Georgia, he wrote 
asking his widowed mother her wishes in the matter. Her 
noble reply is characteristic of the great woman: "Had I 
twenty sons, I should rejoice that they were all so employed, 
though I should never see them more." 

He accepted the call. He wrote: "I have been a griev- 
ous sinner from my youth up, and am yet laden with foolish 
and hurtful desires; but I am assured if I be once converted 
myself, God will then employ me to preach His name to the 
Gentiles. I cannot hope to attain to the same degree of holi- 
ness here as there. My chief motive is the hope of saving 
my own soul." 

This was indeed a strange missionary, living by a severe 
legalistic code, yet not sure of his own salvation, and hoping 
to find it in preaching to the settlers and natives in the woods 
of America! He seems wearied of the treadmill of the heavy- 



John Wesley 455 

footed round of duties of the Holy Club, and hopes in the 
new field to grasp the elusive secret his heart so longs for. 

Charles Wesley accompanied him. The voyage lasted 
from October 14, 1735, to February 5, 1736. At this time 
John Wesley began the writing of his immortal journal. He 
could not afford to loiter away the time consumed by such 
leisurely navigation. How may we emulate his example by 
employing the time of traveling in profitable reading or writing, 
or active soul-winning! 

The acid test of the approach of death was applied to his 
religion on this trip. During a severe storm at sea, all the 
English passengers were quaking with fear, many of them 
screaming lustily, but a company of Moravians — simple-minded 
German Christians — sang calmly their hymn of praise. Even 
the children were sustained by a sweet trust in the tender, faith- 
ful care of the God of their fathers. Because he was not at 
that time free from fear of the last great enemy. Death, Wes- 
ley concluded that there was still something unsound in his 
religious experience. 

He was a very zealous but equally unsuccessful mission- 
ary. His high church views and severe requirements were not 
pleasing to the colonists, while he seems not to have made any 
impression of note upon the natives. His acquaintance with 
Miss Hopkey, niece of Mr. Causton, the magistrate of Sa- 
vannah, ripened into warm affection, but when this deliberate 
lover asked advice of the Moravian brethren, they plainly 
counseled him to go no further in the matter. Others, with 
unclouded vision, thought Miss Hopkey*s religion was adopted 
only as a temporary means to an end, and when she failed of 
that desire, and her prospects vanished, she hastily married 
another, and persecution set her against her former lover. Mr. 
Wesley, always dull to comprehend feminine feelings, and not 



456 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

usually tactful in pouring oil on sentimental waters, excluded 
the lady from partaJcing of the Lord's Supper for reasons he 
deemed adequate. Twelve charges were made against him in 
the court, all of them very trivial matters. A minority declared 
the charges were an artifice of Mr. Causton's, designed to 
blacken Mr. Wesley's character. While there were several 
hearings, the case dragged on, and was never finished. Mr. 
Wesley pleaded guilty of one charge, that of writing to Mrs. 
Williamson, formerly Miss Hopkey, and demanded to be 
heard concerning it. But his enemies only wished to injure 
his influence and drive him from the colony. He found that 
he could neither get a settlement of the case, nor accomplish 
any good among them. So he advertised his intention of leav- 
ing for England. He set sail in December, 1 737. 

The outlook was dark; his ministry was a failure, and the 
spiritual deliverance for which he longed was not yet attained. 
Yet his missionary journey was not in Vciin. He was now ut- 
terly abased in his own eyes. He felt keenly his defeat. He 
writes thus: "This, then, have I learned in the ends of the 
earth, that I am fallen short of the glory of God; that my 
whole heart is altogether corrupt and abominable; that, alien- 
ated as I am from the life of God, I am a child of wrath; 
that my own works, my own sufferings, my own righteousness, 
are so far from making an atonement for the least of those 
sins, that the most specious of them need an atonement them- 
selves. The faith I want is the faith of a son, a sure trust and 
confidence in God, that through the merits of Christ my sins 
are forgiven, and I reconciled to the favor of God." 

Shortly after his arrival in London he met Peter Bohler, a 
Moravian missionary. This simple-hearted German helped 
Wesley to see the simplicity of saving faith. He was now 
humble and teachable, his own efforts having failed to bring 



John Wesley 457 

peace and satisfying comfort. He at once taught the great 
truth, and so effectually did he teach the way of salvation 
that a convict, hearing him, believed and was saved, showing 
a serene peace even when on the scajffold to be hanged. 

That salvation was an instantaneous work, not a long, 
tedious and doubtful process, was to Wesley a great discovery. 
He found that almost every conversion recorded in the New 
Testament was instantly wrought in answer to faith. Also at 
the Moravian Mission many testified that God had instantly 
translated them out of the kingdom of darkness into His mar- 
velous light. 

Charles Wesley, after groping many years, as had his 
brother John, was first in finding the joy of real deliverance. 
When sick in bed, the inspired counsel of a timid serving 
woman lent the necessary quickening to his faith, and from 
that moment his peace was as a river, and he began to recover 
rapidly from his illness. 

May 24, 1 738, was a memorable day for John Wesley. 
All day he seemed to be nearing the goal, and seemed every- 
where to catch prophetic echoes of coming deliverance. When 
he opened the Word he read: "There are given unto us ex^ 
ceeding great and precious promises that we should be par- 
takers of the divine nature." Again he read: *'Thou art not 
far from the kingdom of God." In the evening, in Aldersgate 
Street, he heard one reading Luther's preface to the Epistle 
to the Romans. How fitting that the great German Reformer 
should speak across two centuries to the great Englishman, and 
the latter, catching the heavenly flame, should carry the torch 
of truth over the United Kingdom! 

Wesley's own account follows: "About a quarter be- 
fore nine, while he was describing the change which God works 
in the heart through faith in Christ, / felt mp heart strangely 



458 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salva- 
tion; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away 
my sins, even mine, and saved me trom the law of sin and 
death. I then testified openly to all there what I now first 
felt in my heart. But it was not long before the enemy sug- 
gested, *This cannot be faith, for where is thy joy?' Then I 
was taught that peace and victory over sin are essential to 
faith in the Captain of our salvation; but that, as to the trans- 
ports of joy that usually attend the beginning of it, especially 
in those who have mourned deeply, God sometimes giveth, 
sometimes withholdeth them, according to the counsels of His 
own will." 

After the meeting, several accompanied John to the room 
of his brother Charles, where they rejoiced together. They 
sang a hymn, and parted with prayer. There was rejoicing 
both in Heaven and on earth! 

His legal night was ended! He was no longer under the 
law, but under grace. The humble-minded Bohler did the 
greatest work of his life when he made plain to Wesley the 
way of faith. "Wesley learned, but learned late and slowly, 
that faith is not merely the struggle of the unaided soul to 
reach some act and mood of confidence. It is the surrender 
of the soul to the helping grace of God; and only when that 
surrender is made is the soul uplifted by a divine impulse to 
the great heights of rejoicing trust." 

The direct witness of the Holy Spirit to the pardoned 
soul now became a verified truth to his consciousness, and a 
great fouiidation truth in his preaching. Of what practical 
benefit would a salvation be to us, were we not conscious of 
its possession? It would do us no more good than a bank 
account or legacy of which we had no knowledge. 



John Wesley 459 

The fight of faith at once began, but he says, "Herein I 
found the difference between this and my former state. Then 
I was sometimes if not often conquered. Now I was always 
conqueror!" A life of unbroken victory is the normal life 
of the Christian. Who lives beneath this blessed standard is 
short of his privilege through the atonement of Jesus Christ. 
"Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

FIELD PREACHING, AND HOW THE WORK SPREAD 

To Wesley's former earnestness of speech and keenness of 
logic was now added the blessed energy of the Holy Ghost. 
He became a channel through which blessings streamed to 
other lives. His preaching had a new, strange, spiritual thrill, 
that pricked his hearers to the heart and disquieted those who 
wished to slumber on in their sins. Strange to say that pulpits, 
one by one, closed against him. Religion in the churches had 
become a mere opiate to dull the consciences of men and lull 
them into a vain hope of final salvation. They did not wish 
to be disturbed. Moreover, as the high priests were the chief 
instigators of persecution against the Lord, and the leaders in 
the plot for His crucifixion, so now the bishops and chief dig- 
nitaries of the church promptly closed their doors against this 
flaming evangel of the truth that would rouse people to real 
repentance and lead them into holiness of life. One by one 
the churches were closed against him, so that he practically be- 
came an ecclesiastical outcast. 

Thereupon he betook himself to the jails. In those days 
the laws were needlessly severe and unjust. Thousands were 
thrown into crowded, unsanitary prisons, for debt or slight of- 
fenses, even children being hanged on the gallows. To such, 
the doctrine of salvation by faith was a most welcome mes- 



460 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

sage. They heard him gladly, and many went to their doom 
rejoicing in their new-found salvation. 

Another neglected class were the ignorant, hard-working 
miners. They had nothing to do with the church, and it had 
nothing to offer them. So Wesley and his comrades carried 
the blessed message to them, out on the hillsides or on the 
great commons. This, too, roused the ire of the clergy, who 
were more alarmed over the holding of a religious service not 
strictly according to the established liturgy of the church, than 
they were concerned over the thousands who never before had 
had an opportunity to partake of the bread of life. 

Several students were expelled from Oxford for extempore 
praying, and Whitefield aptly remarked that it was to be hoped 
that some others would be expelled for extempore swearing. 

Whitefield was the first to break through the barriers of 
conventional usage and preach in the open air. His first audi- 
ence numbered two hundred, the second 3,000, the third 
5,000, and increased to 20,000. "I thought," said he, "1 
might be doing the service of my Creator, who had a moun- 
tain for His pulpit and the heavens for a sounding-board." 
True, he shocked the clerical formality of his day, but he won 
the tender affection of the common people, who hung affec- 
tionately upon his words, wept when he left them, and gave 
of their scanty means for his far-off orphanage in America. 

When Whitefield was to leave for America, he summoned 
Wesley to come and take up the work. Wesley saw the op- 
portunity as he looked into that sea of upturned faces. He 
said: "I submitted to be more vile, and, standing on a little 
grassy mound, preached to a great crowd from the words, 
'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He hath emointed 
me to preach the Gospel to the poor.' " 

A grouchy land-owner sued Charles Wesley for walking 



John Wesley 461 

over his field to address the crowd. It cost the man of God 
nearly one hundred dollars. The bill still survives as a relic, 
and at the bottom Charles Wesley wrote: "I paid them the 
things I never took," and on the back, "To be rejudged on 
that day." 

We realize more fully the prejudices which these evangel- 
ical messengers overcame when we read Wesley's own words: 
*'A11 my life, till very lately, I have been so tenacious of 
every point relating to decency and order that I should have 
thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had not been done 
in a church." The fact was that religion in England had 
long been so oppressed by conventionalities that the very life 
was strangled out of it. When the great comrades carried 
the blessed message of salvation to the unwashed miners of 
Kingswood, or the ragged mob from the London slums on 
Moorfields common, the fat, sleek, drowsy clergy roused them- 
selves from arm-chairs to oppose this shocking irregularity 
more vigorously than they had ever fought sin. 

The three great leaders of imperishable fame in this great 
work were the two Wesley s and Whitefield, alike in their anx- 
ious search and joyful finding of salvation, but diverse in their 
personalities and points of strength. 

Whitefield never excelled as a student, but there was a 
radiant brightness in his nature that won universal affection. 
His natural gift for oratory, his saintly earnestness, and singu- 
larly keen religious sensibilities, fitted him to be a magnetic 
preacher under the anointing of the Holy Ghost. "He was 
above middle height, with singularly fair complexion, regular 
features, and small, deep-set, dark-blue eyes, which seemed 
to flash with brightness. He had probably the most muiscal 
and carrying voice that ever issued from a human throat. Its 
sweetness hung in the charmed ears of the crowd; its cadences 



462 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

resembled the rise and fall of the notes of some great singer. 
He had, in addition, a body of iron and nerves of steel.'* 

The repetition of his sermons did not weaken them and 
wear them out. On the contrary, he never reached his high- 
est efficiency until he had repeated a sermon forty times. Then 
it became on his lips a perfect instrument of persuasion. "The 
secret of their power lay in the personality of the preacher, 
the expressive eyes, the matchless voice, the trembling lips, the 
face that seemed to shine as with a mystic light. What he 
saw, he had the orator's power, the great actor's power, of 
making others see. And through all Whitefield's oratory 
glowed, sometimes flamed, a passion of love for his hearers." 

Whitefield's influence resembles the gale sweeping over 
the surface of the sea. The effect is instant, and visible to 
every sense. But of John Wesley's work, the true symbol is 
the coral reef, built up slowly, and cell by cell, in the sea 
depths, over which the soil forms, and on which great cities 
will rise, and unborn nations live. The latter built up from 
the depths, built deeply, and for all time." His work was 
less dramatic, but more enduring than that of Wbitefield. 

"Charles Wesley's development of extraordinary power 
in preaching was both sudden and unexpected." Of his first 
venture to preach extempore he says: "Seeing so few present, 
I thought of preaching extempore. I was afraid, yet I ven- 
tured on the promise, 'Lo, I am with you always.' " A short 
time afterward he could speak before 15,000 people, without 
fear, pause or embarrassment, for two hours. 

■ "To draw such a crowd, to hold it spellbound, to sway it 
with religious emotion, to melt it into penitence, to kindle it to 
joy, is one of the greatest tasks for which human speech has 
ever been used. To do it day after day, sometimes two or 
three times in a single day; to do it for fifteen years as the 



John Wesley 463 

ordinary business of life; to do it intermittently till old age, is 
a task the mere vision of which might have stricken Demos- 
thenes with despair. And Charles Wesley performed this 
strange feat! He had not the organ-like voice and the dram- 
atic genius of Whitefield, nor yet his brother's strange secret 
of calm and overwhelming solemnity of address. The secret 
of Charles Wesley's power in preaching lay in the realm of 
the emotions. The tears ran down his cheeks; his voice took 
cadences of infinite tenderness. It shook with a trembling 
pathos of emotion; and the contagion of his feeling melted 
whole crowds. In the prime of his life he was a preacher of 
almost unsurpassed power, talking in sentences which had the 
rush and impact of bullets, but which vibrated with electric 
thrills of emotion." 

Charles Wesley was *'a little, short-sighted man of hurry- 
ing speech, odd in manner, desultory in mental habit, most 
loyal in his friendships, and with a simplicity of mind that 
made him eminently lovable. He lacked the strength, the 
fixity of purpose, the keen logic, the ordered and systematic 
intellect of his greater brother. But he outran him in some 
things, and was, perhaps, the more lovable of the two, for the 
very reason that he was less faultlessly perfect. For love is 
sometimes nourished by the things it has to forgive." 

John Wesley quickly became the most commanding figure 
in the new crusade. He lacked some of Whitefield's special 
gifts as an orator, yet he somehow was as successful in open- 
air preaching as even his great comrade, and he brought to the 
work more orderly plans, and a more concentrated purpose, 
than even Whitefield. 

What was the secret of Wesley's power as a preacher? 
In many respects it might be imagined that he was the last 
man to sway an eighteenth-century crowd. He was a gentle- 



464 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

man by birth and habit, a scholar by trainmg, a man of fine 
and almost fastidious taste, with an Englishman's uneasy dis- 
like of emotion, and a High Churchman's hatred of irregu- 
larity. He had little imagination, and no descriptive power. 
He told no anecdotes, as a rule, and certainly fired off no jests. 
What fitness had he to talk to peasants, to miners, to the rab- 
ble of the city, to the slow-thinking farmer, drawn from his 
plow-tail ? 

Yet he stood up, a little, trim, symmetrical figure; his 
smooth, black hair exactly parted; his complexion clear and 
pure as that of a girl; his hazel eyes flashing like points of 
steel. And beneath his words the crowd was melted and sub- 
dued until it resembled a routed army, shaken with fear and 
broken with emotion, men and women not seldom falling to 
the ground in a passion of distress. His voice had no trumpet 
notes, but it was clear as a silver flute, and ran across the 
wondering crowd to its farthest verge. 

He drew his inspiration from far-off realms. His spiritual 
insight was hardly less than terrible. He seemed to see into 
men's souls; to put his finger upon the hidden sin, the uncon- 
fessed fear. He had the power of making each man feel as 
though he talked to him alone. And there was something in 
his discourse — a note in his voice, a flash in his eye — that 
thrilled the crowd with awe — awe that not seldom deepened 
into dread. The mood of the speaker was one of perfect 
calmness. But it was the calm of power, of certainty, of an 
authority which ran back into the spiritual world." 

Often the effect upon his congregation was overwhelming. 
Sometimes almost all his audience bowed, as a field of grain 
in a heavy storm, so were they swept with conviction and 
bowed down with sorrow. Some who had opposed the work 
were so agitated that their bodies were wrenched in convul- 



John Wesley 465 

sions until, in answer to importunate prayer, the evil spirits 
came out of them, and they gave joyful testimony to this 
wonderful salvation. Wesley *s journal is as profuse and ex- 
act in recounting his own and others' experiences, ordinary and 
extraordinary, as the record of a scientist, giving data and at- 
tendant circumstances. This gives great interest to his jour- 
nal, while the testimonies have great evidential value in putting 
to his ministry the seal of personal witnesses. 

These remarkable demonstrations appeared more frequently 
under the ministry of John Wesley than in the work of his 
emotional brother Charles, or of the dramatic and imaginative 
Whitefield. Wesley's calmness seemed to strike a deeper awe, 
a more pungent conviction of sin, a sense of God's nearness. 
As he preached, "there suddenly broke upon his hearers this 
sense of the eternal world, with its tremendous issues; of sin 
and its infinite guilt; of God and the relation of the soul to 
Him. What wonder that the shaken souls of his hearers not 
seldom communicated their tremors to the bodies that held 
them!" 

Charles Wesley married in 1 749, and the circle of his 
labors narrowed. Whitefield died in America in September, 
1 756. Thus John Wesley exceeded his brother in aggressive 
work more than forty years, and Whitefield by more than 
thirty. Whitefield preached about 1 8,000 sermons, Wesley 
about 42,000. Wesley traveled more than 250,000 miles in 
his itinerant work. During fifty-one years he kept unfalter- 
ingly and cheerfully on his way. "His comrades lagged be- 
hind him; his friends forsook him; a world of angry contro- 
versy eddied about his name and character. None of these 
things affected Wesley. The clear flame of his zeal burned 
long, burned undimmed, burned still, when even the fire of 
life turned to ashes. 



466 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

"He traveled where population was thickest. He left al- 
most unvisited the wide, green fields of rural districts, with 
their slow-moving, scanty population. But where the stream 
of life was deepest; where tiny villages were growing into busy 
cities; where tall chimneys filled the skies with their blackness, 
there Wesley preached and toiled. His mission began with 
the miners of Kingswood. It ran amongst the crowds of the 
manufacturing cities. His tours were planned out in advance 
with great minuteness — the places he was to visit, the hours at 
which he would arrive, the services to be held. There were 
no wasted moments, no omitted opportunities, no intervals of 
rest. He carried out his appointments with iron resolution. 
Nor storm, nor distance, nor weariness availed to intercept 
his planet-like course. His custom was to preach in the morn- 
ing at five o'clock, or earlier. He then mounted his horse, or 
entered his chaise, and rode or drove to the next place he had 
appointed, where another great crowd waited for him. So 
through all the hours of the day, and all the days of the week, 
and all the weeks of the year, for a long half century, he lived 
like a soldier on a campaign — lightly equipped, and ready at 
a moment to march. But for him it was a campaign of fifty 
years ! 

**Yet he was a man of exquisite neatness and order, with 
the delight of a scholar in having everything perfect about 
him. In his chamber and study, during his winter months of 
residence in London, not a book was misplaced, or even a 
scrap of paper left unheeded. He could enjoy every conven- 
ience of life ; and yet he acted in the smallest things like a man 
who was not to continue an hour in one place. He appeared 
at home in every place — settled, satisfied and happy — and yet 
was ready any hour to take a journey of a thousand miles.'* 

He lived in crowds. His life for many hours a day was 



John Wesley 467 

full of noise, hurry and agitation. Yet he was always a stu- 
dent, carrying a limited library with him, reading as he trav- 
eled between preaching appointments. 

**His light, compact figure had the consistency and tough- 
ness of so much India rubber; nothing tired him, few things 
disturbed him. He was as insensible to vicissitudes of weather 
as a North Sea pilot. There was not a soft fibre, not an un- 
healthy nerve or a relaxed muscle; not an ounce of unnecessary 
flesh in his wonderful little body. Every waking moment had 
its task, and no one ever gave fewer hours to sleep than did 
Jchn Wesley.** 

He wrote books and tracts, corresponded extensively, read 
and studied, preached and prayed, traveled and visited, yet 
was never in a hurry! 

He suffered much opposition, often was stoned or mobbed 
by the rabble, and scoffed at by the clergy. Controversies 
waxed and waned, friends proved untrue, helpers withdrew 
from his side, influencing as many as possible to follow with 
them, scandalous lies were published about him, but none of 
these things moved him, neither counted he his life dear to 
hmself, and he lived to see the great church of his founding 
deep-rooted, flourishing and permanently established. More- 
over, his name outlived all venomous aspersions, and when, as 
an old man, he continued his itineraries, admiring throngs of 
all classes blest him as he passed, and hung affectionately on 
his Heaven-inspired words. Sometimes the stones of opposi- 
tion are later gathered up to build the monument of a truly 
great man. 

The permitting of unordained men to preach the Gospel 
was quite a departure from established custom, and very re- 
luctantly did Wesley yield the point. But, becoming con- 
vinced that the Lord was most graciously using many of the 



468 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

lay helpers that arose about him, he dared not do otherwise 
than encourage them. When he came to London to investi- 
gate the matter, his wise mother counseled him thus: "John, 
take care what you do with respect to that young man, for he 
is as surely called by God to preach as you are. Examine 
what have been the fruits of his preaching, and hear him for 
yourself." The fruits were convincing, and lay preaching be- 
came one of the potent instruments in the spread of the great 
revival, and is a characteristic of Methodism to this day. 

In much the same way the public labors of gifted women 
came to be recognized. While their call to the ministry was 
regarded as an exception to God's general plan, yet when His 
seal was upon their services in the saving of souls, Mr. Wes- 
ley encouraged them in the gracious work — nay, even urged 
them to continue. 

Many of these early Methodists were pressed into mili- 
tary service through the malicious efforts of their persecutors. 
They were as brave soldiers for their country as they were 
for their God, and among their comrades gathered fruit unto 
life eternal. Such were John Nelson and John Haime. 

"Never did a body of men work more diligently, fare 
harder, and receive smaller pay in earthly coin than did this 
first generation of Methodist preachers." The average yearly 
salary was sixty dollars per year. They lived on Spartan 
diet, dressed plainly, made it their rule to never be unemployed, 
never triflingly employed, gave much time to prayer and study, 
and very little time to sleep. Truly they lived with eternity 
in view. 

To watch over each other's souls, the young converts were 
placed in classes having capable leaders, who visited among 
them, held prayer and class-meetings, and gave a strict care 
to the welfare of their souls. The class-meeting has ever been 



John Wesley 469 

a source of encouragement and spiritual power. One great 
writer truthfully predicts: "When the class-meeting dies 
Methodism itself, if it survives, will undergo some silent but 
profound and disastrous change. It will begin to ossify. Forms 
will once again seem more than fact. The familiar and mourn- 
ful cycle of change by which a great church petrifies, and fits 
itself for being thrust aside by some new and more intensely 
spiritual agency, will have begun." 

The distinctive secret of the great revival was the extraor- 
dinary outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Not human talents, nor 
physical energy, nor uncommon zeal can explain a movement 
spreading with such rapidity and success over England, Ire- 
land, Scotland, and the new world, as America was then 
cal/ed. But the Divine agent of salvation, the personal Holy 
Ghost, found vessels of prayer and mighty intercession, also 
chosen men to preach the unadulterated Gospel, under special 
anointing, fearing nothing but sin, and in "nothing terrified by 
their adversaries." 

"Wesley, in laying the foundations of a new church, did 
something that, no doubt, outran his own human vision, but 
which fulfilled a Divine purpose. To destroy a church is 
easy, but to build one is a task requiring not only the highest 
gifts of intellect and the richest endowments of spiritual en- 
ergy, but a combination of external circumstances and forces, 
such as does not often occur in human history. A church, a 
true province of the spiritual kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
within whose bounds millions of devout souls may dwell; a 
church which creates and trains a ministry, sends out missions, 
builds great institutions, and lives with a life that grows even 
richer while generations pass — this is one of the great things of 
history. Its origin does not, indeed, belong to the category or 
human forces. Its secret and explanation lie in the Divine 



470 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

realm. And that Wesley, without deliberately intending it, 
built an indestructible church, is the fact that gives to his ca- 
reer the scale of history.*' 

Whitefield moved with greater rapidity than Wesley, and 
was a more gifted orator than he, but he did not organize, nor 
halt to make his footing sure and perm.anent. Wesley, with 
the instinct of a great leader, made each step firm before mov- 
ing on. He did not merely cover territory; he took possession 
of it. He stopped long enough to organize classes, appoint 
class-leaders, arrange circuits for his itinerant preachers to 
travel over regularly, and then, like Paul, re-visited them in 
the cycle of his own travels. As the work enlarged. Confer- 
ence Sessions were held yearly, and the preachers assigned to 
their circuits, doctrines took more definite form, the Episcopal 
polity became established, the inevitable breach with the Es- 
tablished Church came on; reluctantly, but as necessity re- 
quired, they ordained their own ministers, and after suffering 
long inconvenience, permitted their own preachers to admin- 
ister the sacrament. They had been practically thrust out of 
the mother church, and nothing remained to make the divorce 
complete but the death of the great founder, John Wesley. 

SOME OF THE EARLY CONTROVERSIES 

The doctrines of Methodism were hammered out in the 
fires of great controversies. First of all was the breach with 
the Moravicins, those who had helped Wesley into the sim- 
plicity of saving faith. They drifted into Antinomianism, a 
pretence to superfine spirituality, which exalted them above the 
instruction of common sense, and caused them to denounce 
even the reading of the Scriptures, prayer, the giving of alms, 
and the taking of the sacrament, as works of the law, and not 
necessary for one who accepted salvation by faith. They de- 



John Wesley 471 

clared they possessed all things in Christ, therefore had a right 
to property in any man*s store, or to all the women in the 
world. Wesley took a resolute stand against all this foolish- 
ness in the garb of religion; exhorted them all he could, but 
to no avail, then withdrew, calling upon all who agreed with 
him to follow him. About eighteen from the little society 
in Fetter Lane went with him. Time puts its verdict on Wes- 
ley's side. Law and grace go hand in hand in making a well- 
rounded Christian. Far-fetched mysticism, which lifts people's 
feet off solid ground, and makes them superior to plain, con- 
sistent Christian living, is not biblical. The wisdom which is 
from above is **first pure, peaceable, and easy to be entreated." 
The other is "earthly, sensual and devilish." 

The second great controversy of Methodism was that be- 
tween the Arminian and Calvinistic creeds. Wesley, Fletcher, 
and the Methodists, with some few exceptions, held the Ar- 
minian view, that universal salvation is purchased by the blood 
of Jesus, and that whosoever will may come and take of the 
water of life freely; that whatever are the fore-ordained pur- 
poses of God, they do not interfere with the free choice of 
man; that God could not be just and condemn to everlasting 
punishment His creatures for committing sin if they had no 
choice in the matter. Whitefield, Lady Huntingdon and her 
school, held the view that some are chosen to salvation, and 
others, without any choice of their own, are condemned to an 
everlasting reprobation, in outer darkness, with no gleams of 
mercy or possible s£jvation. They limited the atonement to a 
chosen number who would be inevitably saved, yet declared 
God to be just in unmercifully excluding the remainder of the 
race of men. 

The breach in doctrine between the two factions in the 
great movement was fundamental, and of so great importance 



472 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

that the distance widened between them. Whitefield was ag- 
gressive in giving wings to the controversy. He could not rest. 
He must try to convince Wesley and others that his view was 
the correct one. Champions on each side took up the gaunt- 
let, and the fire of controversy thus kindled rapidly spread. 
Able men on both sides took up the pen of wit and wisdom, 
and sometimes even added a little gall, in defense of truth as 
they saw it. Some came out of the controversy with less grace 
and not much more wisdom than when they entered. It is 
agreed by all that the choicest cuid most able combatant was 
John Fletcher of Madelcy, who, while he debated with most 
keen insight and profound wisdom, never lost his temper, nor 
entertained any but the kindliest feelings of Christian love and 
respect for his opponents. His writings at that period are a 
permanent contribution to religious literature, and are profit- 
able for doctrine, reproof, and instruction in righteousness. 

Wesley's large-mindedness is evident all through the trou- 
blous period. He was a man of peace, and continued without 
abatement his efforts to win souls into the kingdom. He re- 
fused, however, to let the churches become mere debating so- 
cieties, and was willing that members disagree with him on 
abstract points, if they were peaceable, and if they were godly 
and consistent in conduct. But when he was aroused to speak 
or write on the controverted subject, it was with matchless fire 
of eloquence and an unequaled weight of logic. Usually, 
written sermons are much like the valley of dry bones of the 
prophet's vision, and one wonders, when reading the sermons 
of Wesley, where lay the secret of his great success. A writ- 
ten sermon lacks the power of personality, under the unction 
of the Holy Ghost. But his sermon on Free Grace is con- 
sidered a masterpiece, unsurpassed in ancient or modern ora- 



John Wesley 473 

tory. It has the fire and glow of passion, and the crystaUine 
clearness of logic. 

"Both the reason and the conscience of mankind have de- 
clared themselves on the side of Wesley as against White- 
field's perverse and dreadful theology. Both Whitefield and 
Wesley maintained the utmost confidence in each other, and 
rejoiced in the hope of meeting in Heaven. 

Wesley was naturally a High Churchman, and remained 
loyal to it until absolute necessity required him to dissent from 
it, that the hundreds of young converts might be properly 
shepherded. 

Wesley's marriage 

Wesley's love affairs were both amusing and disastrous, 
but his marriage was a tragedy. We have already briefly 
told of the affair in Georgia, and its disappointing outcome. 
In 1 748 Wesley suffered a brief attack of sickness. The gen- 
tle ministrations of Grace Murray, one of the helpers in the 
Orphan House at Newcastle, won his grateful affection. She 
was a widow of twenty-eight. After Wesley's recovery she 
traveled some with him, assisting in the services. She seems 
to have been a gifted woman, and useful in the Lord's ser- 
vice. But there seems to have been in her nature a strange 
fickleness of affection. Or it may have been that another, 
Mr. Bell by name, exercised too great influence over her mind. 
The fact is, she seemed to care for each of them. She prob- 
ably would have been soon married to Mr. Wesley had not 
Bell, aided by Charles Wesley, interfered. Her engagement 
to Wesley was broken, and she hastily married Bennet. 
Within nine months of the marriage Bennet separated from 
Wesley, taking with him all the members of the society as he 
could influence. 



474 Men and Wonen of Deep Piety 

Had she married Wesley, she probably would have be- 
come a well-established and useful Christian worker, and a 
true heart-mate for the great itinerant. Their separation for 
life seems to have been unfortunate for both of them. 

Eighteen months later he met Mrs. Vazeille, a widow hav- 
ing three children and a good income. She seemed to be a 
pious woman, "of a sorrowful spirit." Mr. Wesley, who 
seemed not to be as good a judge of women as of men, took 
her at face value, and soon proposed marriage to her. At the 
time a slight accident made him lame for a time, and prevented 
his usual travels. It seems unfortunate that he did not take 
a long journey, and, in the usual round of busy work, forget 
the charming widow. Instead, she nursed him in his affliction, 
and that was always fatal for Wesley. Before his lameness 
was cured, without this time giving his brother Charles or any 
other man opportunity to meddle, the knot was tied that bound 
him for thirty years to a woman who proved to be ignorant, 
self-indulgent, and with a semi-lunatic capacity for jealousy. 
"His wife was nothing better than a human gad-fly. Her 
business in existence was to sting." For a while she accom- 
panied him in his preaching tours, but her genius for quarreling 
with everybody about her made too much trouble, and brought 
that to an end. She then busied herself investigating her hus- 
band's correspondence, spying upon him, falsely accusing him 
in private and in public, and, as much as possible, making life 
miserable. 

Fortunate was it for him that his work called him away so 
much. Well might it be a trial to any woman to be tied to so 
comet-like a husband. It is barely possible that if he had 
married a congenial and loving woman, his usefulness might 
have been curtailed by narrowing his sphere, for he was not 
unresponsive to true affection. As it was, he moved on in his 



John Wesley 475 

appointed course, making no effort to rectify the slanders ut- 
tered and published by his wife. In a brief time her own 
character became known, and he was vindicated. 

Sometimes she left him, then returned at her own pleasure. 
Finally she disappeared to return no more. In 1781 he re- 
ceived notice of her death. 

Charles Wesley had called her his best friend, because 
she told him his faults most faithfully. But when she accused 
his loved wife, Sally, of having for several years been the mis- 
tress of his brother, it was almost too much for the patient 
man. Inflamed jealousy had made her a veritable virago. 

John Hampson said that marriage would have crippled 
John Wesley and George Whitefield if God had not sent 
them a brace of ferrets. 

The wife of Charles Wesley was of a very tender and 
loving spirit, a woman of sound judgment and clear intellect; 
she was the joyous mother of eight children, made her hus- 
band serenely happy, and outlived him many years. 

March 29, 1 788, the nightingale of early Methodism 
took his flight. The epitaph on his tomb was written by h's 
own hand: 

"With poverty of spirit blest, 
Rest, happy saint, in Jesus rest; 
A sinner saved, through grace forgiven, 

Redeemed from earth to reign in Heaven ! 
Thy labors of unwearied love, 
By thee forgot, are crowned above — 
Orowned through the mercy of thy Lord, 

With a free, full, immense reward!" 

CLOSING life's DAY 

Standing under a great tree, a listening and reverent crowd 
about him, with trembling lips, John Wesley preached his last 



476 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

open-air sermon, at Winchelsea, October 7, 1 790. The peo- 
ple were bathed in tears. 

Though now an image of extreme feebleness, he went on 
planning, writing, traveling and preaching. He closed each 
interview, and every meeting, with the message, "Little chil- 
dren, love one another." Eternity was nearing, and he seemed 
to realize that each service might be his last. The wheels of 
life had almost stopped. The firm, tough little body that had 
served him so well for almost eighty-eight years, finally wore 
out in the Lord's good service. 

On Saturady and Sunday fever kindled in his veins. On 
Tuesday the indomitable old man preached at City Road, and 
on Wednesday at Leatherhead. It was the faithful preacher's 
last message. The text was, "Seek ye the Lord while he may 
be found." 

He shambled into his home on Friday, a stricken man. 
Making his way upstairs, he asked all to leave the room. 
There for half an hour, facing eternity, he tarried alone with 
his God, like Moses on the hilltop. He lingered three or four 
days. Triumphant days were they, bright with gleams from 
the heavenly shore. 

"I the chief of sinners am, but Jesus died for me," he oft 
repeated. 

In a low, distinct voice, he said: "There is no way into 
the holiest, but by the blood of Jesus." Occasionally he broke 
out in snatches of song. "His failing voice ran into music as 
if by some eager and resistless impulse." 

"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath, 
And when my voice is lost in death 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers. 
My days of praise shall ne'er be past 
While life and thought and being last^ 

Or immortality endures." 



John Wesley 477 

"He went back to bed, and, lying there, bade those about 
him pray and praise. He gave composed directions for his 
funeral, and after lying silent a little, he whispered, with kind- 
ling face, 'The best of all is, God is with us.' Then lifting 
his hand as though to wave it, he cried once more, like a sol- 
dier exulting in the moment of victory, *The best of all is, God 
is with us.* Hester Ann Rogers came into the room with her 
husband. 'Who are these'? asked Wesley. Said Rogers, 
'Sir, we have come to rejoice with you. You are going to 
receive your crown.' 'It is the Lord's doing,' answered the 
dying man, 'and marvelous in our eyes.' 

All through the night, broken accents of praise and adora- 
tion fell from his lips. On Wednesday morning, at ten 
o'clock, while a group of faithful and weeping friends stood 
round his bed, and Joseph Bradford was in the act of pray- 
ing, Wesley whispered, 'Farewell,'' and his spirit passed away. 
Joseph Bradford at that moment was repeating the words, 
'Life up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye ever- 
lasting doors.' Then those in the room broke into singing: 

'Waiting to receive thy spirit, 
Lo, the Savior stands above, 
Shows the purchase of His merit, 
Reaches out the crown of love.' " 

Wesley's religion had stood the supreme test. He had 
faced the last enemy. Death, with an unflinching faith, and 
had triumphed gloriously. He proved, indeed, that perfect 
love casteth out fear. His life exemplified the great doctrine 
of Entire Sanctification, the spreading of which truth was the 
grand depositum of Methodism. 



GEORGE WHITEFIELD 



ON the blackest soils grow the fairest flowers, and the 
loftiest and strongest trees spring heavenward among the 
rocks." 

*'It is the north wind that lashes men into vikings; it is the 
soft, luscious south wind which lulls them to lotus dreams." 

With no remarkable ancestry to presage greatness, with en- 
vironments of vice and vulgarity surrounding his childhood, not 
having kind, conscientious parents to give him Christian train- 
ing, in his early years George Whitefield gave little indications 
of ever attaining success or distinction in any calling. But the 
quickening of Divine grace awakened latent talents, holy zeal 
fired his ambitions to be useful to his fellow-men, and Divine 
ardor ravished his soul and consumed his energies with untiring 
efforts to reclaim sinners from the error of their ways. 

Application, perseverance, concentration, doing one thing 
and doing it well, doing it better than the usual grade of execu- 
tion, have done more to lift lives out of the ordinary into the 
extraordinary than genius alone has accomplished. Indeed, 
one defines genius as "the art of taking infinite pains." 

"If we were to examine a list of the men who have left 
their mark on the world, we should find that, as a rule, it is 
not composed of those who were brilliant in youth, or who 
gave great promise at the outset of their careers, but rather to 
the plodding young men who, if they have not dazzled by their 
brilliancy, have had the power of a day's work in them, who 

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George Whitefield 



George Whitefield 481 

could stay by a task until it was done, and well done — who 
have had grit, persistence, common sense and honesty." 

George, the sixth son of Thomas and Elizabeth White- 
field, was born December 27, 1714, in the Old Bell Inn, 
Gloucestershire, England. The father died when George was 
two years old, and the mother continued the business of keeping 
the tavern. When large enough, George, clad in a blue apron, 
washed mops, cleaned rooms and tended bar. Not a prom- 
ising outlook, to be sure. For the amusement of others he used 
to mimic preachers, read prayers and compose sermons. But 
his conscience began to be troubled, and late in the night he 
might have been found poring over his Bible, long after the 
lights in the tavern were out. 

In his eighteenth year he entered Oxford. Gladly he 
joined the Holy Club, composed of pious young men, seriously 
bent on serving God. Charles Wesley was his spiritucJ father, 
John Wesley his early counselor. 

In his twenty-first year he was ordained by Bishop Benson, 
of the Established Church. He went as a missionary to Geor- 
gia, and was the founder of an orphan asylum there. This 
home for destitute children was often the theme of his elo- 
quence and the object of his constant prayers and labors. He 
received and expended about seventy-five thousand dollars for 
the orphan house. In it during his life one hundred and forty 
boys and forty-three girls had been clothed, educated, main- 
tained, and suitably provided for. Shortly after his death the 
Revolutionary War came on, and a few years later the main 
building of the orphanage was destroyed by fire. Whitefield 
was sometimes accused by his enemies of appropriating the 
funds raised for the orphanage to personal uses. But he kept 
his accounts open to the public, had them audited and filed 



482 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

under oath, and the records show that he did not even deduct 
his traveling expenses. 

In appearance Whitefield was large, portly, and not de- 
cidedly handsome. He wore a large wig, and preached in the 
gown and bands worn by the clergy of the church of England. 
His enemies gave him the nickname of "Squintum" because 
of a slight squint of one of his sparkling eyes. 

But all personal characteristics were lost sight of when his 
eloquent voice pealed forth the thunders of Sinai, or groans of 
Gethsemane, or passion of Calvary. He was undoubtedly the 
prince of pulpit orators. Garrick, the celebrated English actor, 
heard Whitefield with delight, and said, "I would give a hun- 
dred guineas if I could only say *Oh* like Mr. Whitefield.** 
He declared that Whitefield's eloquence advanced up to the 
fortieth repetition of a sermon, and that he could make his 
auditors weep or tremble merely by varying his pronunciation 
of the word Mesopotamia. 

"His face was like a canvas, and on it he painted every 
passion that stirs in the human breast. It was at one moment 
terrific, as if all the furies were enthroned on that dark brow; 
and the next, as by a dissolving view, there would come forth 
an angelic sweetness that savored of Heaven itself. His eyes, 
upturned, seemed to the beholder to penetrate the very throne 
of God. He saw, so it would seem, the celestial host. He 
addressed Gabriel, as if familiar with that bright archangel. 
He bade him suspend his flight, and receive the news and bear 
it upward, that one more sinner had repented. 'Stop, Gabriel, 
stop,' he cried, as naturally as if the vision were real, and as if 
Gabriel folded his wings at the preacher's call and received the 
joyful message. 

"His voice was such as man is seldom gifted with. It 
could be heard distinctly on a clear, still evening, for a mile. 



3 George Whitefield 483 

It was smooth, variable, and could express the gentlest emo- 
tions. It was capable of swelling into thunder peals, and then 
every ear tingled and every heart trembled. The great foun- 
dation of his eloquence lay in a soul of intense emotions, stir- 
red to its very depths by the power of religion. He was a 
consecrated man from the first. It was a full, joyful and cor- 
dial surrender of all his powers and affections to Christ, and 
to the love of souls for Christ's sake. He counted everything 
but loss for Him. His love was the grand impulsive power in 
all his journeys, his labors, his self-denials and his aims. This 
burning zeal for Christ found expression in the gesture, the 
countenance, the voice. In gesture no man ever excelled, per- 
haps none ever equaled him. A single movement of his finger, 
with the accompanying expression of his face, would thrill an 
audience or dissolve them to tears. His face radiant with the 
light from Heaven, which he had caught on the mount of 
communion, begat an immediate sympathy as all eyes were 
riveted upon it.'* 

He studied elocution, practised faithfully in private, and 
believed that a minister is deficient in training without it. His 
eloquence never waned, but was greater and more impressive 
at fifty than at thirty. 

**When Whitefield preached before the seamen in New 
York he had the following bold apostrophe in his sermon: 
*Well, my boys, we have a clear sky, and are making fine 
headway over a smooth sea before a light breeze, and we shall 
soon lose sight of land; but what means this sudden lowering 
of the heavens, and that dark cloud arising from beneath the 
western horizon? Don't you hear distant thunder? Don't 
you see those flashes of lightning? There is a storm gathering I 
Every man to his duty ! How the waves rise and dash against 
the ship! The air is dark! The tempest rages! Our masts 



484 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

are gone! The ship is on her beam ends! What next?' The 
unsuspecting tars, reminded of former perils on the deep, as if- 
struck by the powei of magic, arose, and with united voices 
exclaimed, 'Take to the life-boat! Take to the life-boat, sir!' 
Mr. Whitefield seized upon this reply, urged them to fly to 
Jesus Christ, the great life-boat, who could save them in the 
severest hurricane that ever blew. His ingenious application 
had a fine effect upon the old seamen." 

Benjamin Frcuiklin, on one occasion when going to hear 
Whitefield, determined to give nothing if a collection should 
be taken. In his pocket he had some gold, silver and copper 
coins. Under the persuasive power of the eloquent appeal 
the great but skeptical man decided first to give his copper 
coins, later the silver, and then the gold. Finally, when the 
plate was passed, he emptied his pockets into it! 

Whitefield charmed Lord Chesterfield. On one occasion 
the latter was so enthralled by Whitefield's description of the 
way and fate of the sinner, under the figure of a blind beggar 
losing his way, groping about on the edge of a precipice, drop- 
ping his cane, bending over, and the next instemt falling head- 
long into the yawning chasm, that Lord Chesterfield bounded 
to his feet and exclaimed, "By heavens, he's gone!" 

In doctrine he 2igreed with Lady Huntingdon, and entered 
many doors open by her among the nobility of England. Un- 
like Wesley, he did not organize his converts into classes and 
provide shepherds for them. He later acknowledged that 
Wesley's plan was the better. 

His written sermons are not remarkable for logic or bril- 
liancy. He was an orator, not a writer. 

He was ridiculed by ministry and laity who professed to 
be doing God service. He was attacked brutally in his bed, 



George Whitefield 485 

and almost killed. He was mobbed, egged and stoned. H2 
was mimicked on the stage as "Dr. Squintum." But none oi 
these things moved him. He counted it all joy to suffer for 
Jesus' sake. His popularity increased on both sides of the 
Atlantic, and never waned. From Savannah to Boston, list- 
ening thousands were profited by his tender, flaming, persuasive 
discourses. He crossed the Atlantic thirteen times. 

His last sermon was delivered in the open air at Exeter, 
Mass., September 29, 1 770. Before preaching some one said 
to him: "Sir, you are more fit to go to bed than to preach." 
"True, sir," replied Mr. Whitefield, then prayed: "Lord 
Jesus, I am weary in Thy work, but not of Thy work. If I 
have not yet finished my course, let me go on and speak for 
Thee once more in the fields, seal Thy truth, then go home 
and die." 

The sermon was two hours in length, an effort of stupen- 
dous eloquence, his last field triumph. That afternoon he re- 
turned to Newburyport with his old friend. Rev. Parsons, at 
whose house he died. This was Saturday, and Mr. White- 
field was to preach there on Sunday. Crowds gathered to 
hear him that evening. After stating that he could not say a 
word, he took a candle and left for bed. Feeling the worth 
of souls, and seeing the number who were hungering for the 
word of life, he paused on the stairs and delivered to them an 
exhortation of powerful eloquence and melting pathos. His 
voice was musical, the audience was melted, and tears flowed 
freely. He talked on until the candle he was holding in his 
hand burned away and went out in its socket. 

In the night his asthma came on again. At six o'clock 
Sabbath morning the glory of the eternal day burst upon his 
enraptured vision, and he went to his reward. 



FRANCES E. WILLARD 



FRANCES WILLARD, world famous as the founder of 
the National and World's organizations of the W. C. 
T. U., was born at Churchville, N. Y., September 28, 1839. 
She came of sturdy old Puritan stock, her wise, patient and 
godly mother being of a family kn«wn for piety and integrity. 
Her father was Josiah Flint Willard. His daughter describes 
him as "a man elegant in person, devoutly religious, gifted 
with a fine mind, an inflexible will, and unusual powers of 
thought and speech.'* 

Verily, the inheritance of spiritual and intellectual powers, 
as well as physical, with which parents endow their children, 
are of utmost value in predisposing the child to useful and 
holy living. 

Three children added their bright faces and charming 
originalities to the home — Oliver, Frances and Mary. Five 
years were spent at Oberlin College, in Ohio; twelve years at 
Zanesville, Wis., in Forrest Home's seclusion and idyllic rus- 
tic life. Here, *'far from the maddening crowd's ignoble 
strife", they grew like tender plants adding zest to their plays 
and development to their original and precocious minds. 

Frances was discovered one day enthusiastically declaim- 
ing to passers-by from the top of the gate-post. The wise 
mother guided her winging ambitions by taking her in her 
arms and asking her to say her pieces for mamma, because 
she liked to hear her, and could tell her how to say them well. 

486 




Frances E. Willard 



Frances E. Willard 489 

A proper provision for the busy hands and active brains 
of growing children would direct them into useful channels and 
save much unpleasantness in so many homes. 

Frances was affectionate, confiding, fond of books, eager 
for knowledge, anxious to see the world, know folks, and live 
most usefully. 

We see the inborn repugnance to alcohol in a childish 
charter of an imaginary city, in which Frances states, "We will 
have no saloons or billiard halls, then we will not need any 
jails. 

Education and Conversion 

When Frances was fourteen years old, her father and 
some neighbors hired a competent teacher to come to their 
rural home and, for ten months, instruct the children. Then 
the district school was established, where Frances won some 
laurels for poem and essay. 

When she was nineteen, she and Mary entered the North- 
western Female College, at Evanston, 111. The gentle, retir~ 
ing Mary at once won all hearts. But Frances had more of a 
conquest. Her spirit of adventure, talents for leadership, 
vivacity gf intellect, close application to her studies, scorn of 
that silly weakness so many of her age exhibit toward the op- 
posite sex, rugged wrestling with difficulties, suitable attention 
to appearance and decorum, without bondage thereto, con- 
vinced her classmates of her good mental abilities and excellent 
character. Modest, merry and wise, she stood at the head 
of her class. Stricken low with typhoid fever, she was unable 
to be present at the graduation exercises. 

Sabbath had always been a most sacred day in her home, 
with quiet walks and talks with parents, and singing at twi- 
light hour, "Guide Me, Oh, Thou Great Jehovah", and 



490 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

other sacred hymns. Living so near to nature's throbbing 
heart, loving every w^inged or creeping thing, passionately fond 
of flowers, Frances* w^orshipful spirit adored her Lord and 
aspired to do His will. 

But not until she lay so very sick, the candle of life flick- 
ering, did the Divine call come clear and insistent. Like Sam- 
uel, she said, "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.** After 
the struggle of her strong will was over, sweet, restful peace 
came, mellowing her soul. She called her mother, and told 
her of her surrender to Jesus. Henceforward her life was not 
to be her own. It was a happy hour for mother and daughter. 

At the age of twenty-seven, in a meeting held by Mrs. 
Phoebe Palmer, she definitely sought and obtained the experi- 
ence of entire sanctification. She thought her chief besetments 
had been "a speculative mind, a hasty temper, and a purpose 
to be a celebrated person. But in that hour of real self- 
examination I felt humiliated that the simple bits of jewelry I 
wore, gold buttons, rings and pins, all of them plain and quiet 
in their style, came up to me as the separating causes between 
my spirit and my Savior. The sense of it remained so strong 
that I unconditionally yielded my pretty little jewels, and a 
great peace came .into my soul. A conscious emotional pres- 
ence of Christ held me. I cannot describe the deep welling 
up of joy that gradually possessed me.'* 

Most likely the return to the use of those articles of adorn- 
ment later was a barrier to her regaining the experience of 
holiness after once she had lost it. 

Just previous to her becoming perceptress at the Semi- 
nary of Lima, N. Y., the following fatal advice was given 
to her by an honored minister: "Sister, there is a strange 
state of things at Lima. The Free Methodists have done great 
harm by their excesses in the doctrine and experience of holi- 



Frances E. Willard 491 

ness. You must know, I believe thoroughly in, 2uid profess it, 
but now our church has suffered so much from the Nazarites, 
as they are called, and I fear if you speak and act so zeal- 
ously at Lima in this cause as you do here, it may make 
trouble. Hold to the experience, but be very careful in stat- 
mg it. 

A professor at Lima replied to a student who inquired 
about holiness that it was not mentioned there. This quietus 
had its effect. 

She says, "I kept still until I had nothing to keep still 
about." Many times later she thought to regain the experi- 
ence, but she never gave certain evidence of obtaining it. 

They who have never entered into the holy of holies in 
the Christian walk would consider such small matters as mere 
trifles. But to the tenderly conscientious, all that bears upon 
the question of humility and obedience is of vital importance, 
for "whatsoever is not of faith is sin.** Rom. 14:23. 

Several events led to her call to the W. C. T. U. work. 

A woman of large intellect and great executive ability, 
she was rapidly promoted in the teaching profession. From 
country school-ma'am at Harlem, 111., she became perceptress 
at her alma maier at Evanston, 111. She was successively 
president of a Woman's College in Pittsburg, Pa., president 
of a private school at Evanston, teacher in the Seminary of 
Lima, N. Y., and president of Evanston College for Ladies. 
The last was a co-educational institution, in the government 
of which she was highly successful. 

Women are endowed with large mental and soul powers, 
and should be given their proper place and voice in home, 
church and state. Two-thirds of professing Christians are 
women. Women, the natural home-protectors, must be silent, 
while all her peers in sex, though many of them be far infer- 



4^2 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ior in morals, education and citizenship, may perpetuate home- 
destroying institutions which greedily snatch from her arms 
the youth, to furnish recruits for the brothel, gambling den 
and house of shame. The saloon is a legalized evil, cind as 
such goes on in its damnable business, protected by law. 

The ballot is the only means of cleansing our loved nation 
from this cursed blot on its civilization. The votes of man, 
unaided by woman, have not accomplished the great work. 
How long shall pure hands be bound, who long to aid in the 
great conflict between virtue and impurity, chastity and the 
brothel, home and the saloon? 

Having resigned her position as Dean of the Women's 
College, Miss Willard was casting about in her mind what 
course to pursue. Her intimate friend, Kate Jackson, desired 
a traveling companion. Delighted that his daughter might 
have the safe and instructive companionship of such an intelli- 
gent woman, Mr. Jackson paid all expenses of the two, who 
spent two and a half years touring Europe, Egypt and the 
Holy Land. This was an opportunity, indeed, and Miss 
Willard put herself heartily into labor and study, using her 
pen diligently. They visited all but one of the capitols of 
Europe. 

She was now about thirty- four years old. The Woman's 
Temperance Crusade was beginning its noble work, pleading, 
praying, agitating, in saloons and public meetings, much criti- 
cised by the press, and railed at by brewers and liquor vendors. 
Miss Willard took a warm interest in the work, and publicly 
espoused the cause, traveling some states in its interest. 

In the same mail came two letters to her, one offering her 
the position of lady principal of a fine school for young women, 
to choose her own duties and receive a salary of $2,400 per 
year. The other letter was an official request, begging her to 



Frances E. Willard 493 

become president of the Chicago branch of the W. C. T. U., 
lately organized/promising much hard work and barely a liv- 
ing, with public sentiment yet much against them. Declining 
the first lucrative position, she accepted the latter. Like 
Moses, she made a choice. She selected the more despised po- 
sition because her generous spirit saw in it the greater oppor- 
tunity to benefit her sex in the conflicts of life. 

Thereafter the home of Frances Willard for twenty-five 
years was the hotel, the boarding house, the train, or the warm 
fireside of kind friends. Her incessant toils through all those 
years were Herculean. 

In the United States she publicly addressed the people in 
every city having ten thousand or more inhabitants. For 
twelve years she averaged one meeting a day, addressing four 
thousand audiences in that time. She organized hundreds of 
local societies, became president of the National W. C. T. U., 
sent representatives to effect organizations in foreign lands, of 
which the British W. C. T. U., with the excellent Lady 
Henry Somerset as president, was the largest and most useful 
in Temperance agitation. 

When the World's W. C. T. U. was effected, Frances 
Willard was made its president. She had an unusual genius 
for organization, dividing the work into sixty departments, 
with headquarters at the Temple, a large, costly building in * 
Chicago, built by contributions from all over the land. 

National Conventions were held annually, and World 
Conventions bi-annually. The famous Polyglot petition was 
signed by seven millions, and in fifty languages. 

As presiding officer in large public gatherings, in tact and 
ability she equalled any statesman, and surpassed many. In 
her public addresses she showed a remarkable versatility of 
mind, large affection, heaven-born inspiration and ideals, abil- 



494 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

ity to convince the understanding and move to action the en- 
ergies of the masses. She endeared her cause and herself to 
milHons of earnest women. 

She then spent some months in England with Lady Henry 
Somerset, in recuperation, and in relieving five hundred refu- 
gees from the horribe massacre of Armenieins by the Turks. 
At a great reception at Elxeter Hall she addressed an enthu- 
siastic audience of five thousand. In many places the scene 
was repeated. 

Returning to New York, she and her secretary con- 
tinued their labors while entertained at the Hotel Empire. 
Here her nervous system entirely collapsed, the frail body no 
longer able to support her great mental activities. Though re- 
ceiving the best medical aid, it was in vain. Tossing rest- 
lessly, breathing forth her devotion to the Lord, giving direc- 
tions for the future of the Temperance work, those weary days 
wore on. 

Gazing intently upon a large picture of the Savior, softly 
and eloquently she repeated Tennyson's lines: 

"I am Merlin, and I'm dying, 
But I'll follow the gleam." 

"How beautiful it is to be with God," she whispered. 
Again she repeated: 

"My bark is wafted to the strand, bv breath Divine: 
And on the helm there rests a hand other than mine. 
One who was known in storm to sail. I have on board. 
Above the roaring of the gale, I hear my Lord."' 

*'By angel hands attended, she awoke among the blest" 
February 1 7, 1897. Thus closed the life period of fifty-eight 
years of a noble, gifted, generous Christian woman. 

"Manhood is nobler, womanhood truer, childhood safer, 
because Frances Willard has lived. Transparently frank and 



I 



Frances E. Willard 495 

openly ingenious, she never stooped to scheme and intrigue; 
never swerved one jot or tittle from the straight line of right- 
eous principle. She won all true hearts by the power of love. 
She did not seek her own.'* 

"She relinquished that which women hold the dearest — 
the sacred sheltered life of home. For her no children wait 
around the Christmas heartli, but she has lost that life only to 
find it again ten thousand fold. She has understood the mys- 
tery of the wider circle of love and loyalty. She has under- 
stood the Divine motherhood that claims the orphaned hearts 
of humanity for her heritage, for organized mother-love is the 
best definition of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union." 



MRS. E. M. WHITTEMORE 



i <r) UT, oh, mamma, you are not going that way, are you? 
lJ Oh, mamma, you are not dressed." These were the 
words, full of anxious concern, uttered by a very small boy, 
who had silently and wonderingly been watching his elabo- 
rately-dressed mother, before the mirror, survey herself, bril- 
liant with diamonds and very exquisite accessory of an elite 
toilet. His baby touch upon her bare neck and arms, the 
shocked look upon his innocent face, and his childlike words 
took away the usual enjoyment in the evening's amusement and 
frivolity. "The music, in the whirl of the dance, seemed 
shockingly to remind me of those utterances, and even in my 
dreams, somehow, the thought was fastened upon my mind, 
until after a short time God made me realize I needed a 
change of raiment, and it was not long after this when, as we 
supposed, with curiosity, both my husband and I went down 
to 3 1 6 Water Street to a little dance hall which had been con- 
verted into a mission, to see Jeri"y McAuley, the converted 
river thief. 

The Lord most marvelously met us there that night, and 
before leaving that meeting we both returned to the One 
whose name we bore, yet had so greatly dishonored. Ever 
since then the love of the world has been crowded out of my 
heart, and in its place has been created a real hunger for 
souls, and a desire to meet God's expectation in all things.'* 

Although her husband was a very successful business man, 

496 




Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 



Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 499 

and she moved in the society of the wealthy and fashionable, 
Mrs. Whittemore now felt that the Lord called her to devote 
herself to the rescue of those in the lowest strata of society. 
He gave her grace to overcome her natural repugnance to peo- 
ple of that class, gave her a great yearning pity and compas- 
sionate love that drew them to her, and made her a spiritual 
mother to thousands. 

After some years of personal work, the Lord made it clear 
that a refuge should be opened to receive fallen and unfor- 
tunate women, where, in the shelter of Christian surroundings, 
they might be helped once more into lives of usefulness and 
virtue. Moreover, the Lord required that the undertaking be 
fully a work of faith. According to Divine leading, she put 
her own money in another channel of service to the Lord, and 
now trusted Him to provide the funds necessary for so expen- 
sive an undertaking in the great metropolis. New York. 
Neither did the Lord permit her to solicit funds, or to receive 
money by hinting for it. He held her to the strictest intimacy 
with Himself in these matters, so that when money was finally 
received from various sources it came as directly from Him 
who had called her to the work, and pledged Himself to pro- 
vide all that was necessary to establish and maintain it. The 
result was the dedication of the first *'Door of Hope**, for 
fallen girls, at 102 East 61st Street, New York, and since 
then fifty-three more such homes have been opened in various 
cities, all bearing the same name. In a little over ten years 
about $77,000 was received to meet the needs of the first 
home, and over 2,700 souls housed there during that time. 
This gives a little idea to estimate the work done by a total of 
fifty-four homes during a period of twenty-five years! May 
not the Lord say of her, *'Oh, woman, great is thy faith**? 

Mrs. Whittemore*s children were small, so she could not 



500 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

give her entire time to the work, but while they were at school, 
each morning she went to the Home. 

"After the rooms are attended to, about ten o'clock we 
assemble together for a Bible reading, singing, prayer, and 
recitation of verses. On Thursdays we have a public service 
at 11 a. m., led in turn by ministers and prominent Christian 
workers. After the morning service, the housework is looked 
after till luncheon. In the afternoon two hours or more are 
devoted to sewing. This undertaking requires much patience 
and perseverance, both by the teacher and scholars as well, 
for as a rule, in their past, little attention has been given to 
that accomplishment. In the evening there is fancy-work, type- 
writing, and sometimes the matron reads aloud for a change, 
or they go out to a prayer-meeting or lecture, when considered 
advisable. The object of the home is to keep everyone as 
much in seclusion as possible, therefore no visitors ever come 
in contact with the girls, unless considered best for special 
reasons. When we feel they are fully established, we are 
confident the Lord will open up places of employment and 
suitable homes for them in answer to prayer. Every morning 
we bring our daily needs before the Lord, and the various and 
repeated answers to prayer have encouraged and strengthened 
the faith of those so much upon our hearts, possibly more than 
anything else. For instance, a certain emergency arose which 
required money immediately. We knelt all together in a little 
silence, then we asked for exactly what was required, and be- 
fore rising thanked God for answering prayer. In less than 
an hour a letter was given me from a friend. In it she ex- 
pressed much interest in the work, and closed by saying God 
had put it upon her heart to send twenty-live dollars. This 
met what was required, and a little over. 



Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 501 

"Another time we had a coal bill to pay, and again united 
in placing it before the Lord, and the same day a friend 
handed me the amount to the cent we should have, being per- 
fectly ignorant of either our prayers or of the need. And fur- 
ther. He sends us at times occasional luxuries unasked, which 
does much to cheer the hearts of those who are indeed striving 
to cast all their care upon Him." She often receives thousands 
of dollars from single donors, without solicitation, but in answer 
to secret prayer. - 

Let me briefly give her experience in healing. Through a 
fall upon the stairs in earlier years, the lower part of her spine 
was injured. She consulted many doctors, and tried many 
means for recovery, but without avail. She was prejudiced 
against the doctrine of divine healing as fanatical. But, hear- 
ing it taught over and over at the Christian Alliance, she fin- 
ally made it the subject of prayer and investigation. Then the 
Lord .preciously encouraged her faith by applying His Word. 
"Nothing could be more emphatic, nor could I feel otherwise 
than convinced that God was leading me in a very direct man- 
ner. From that moment I sought His truth with greater earn- 
estness, and determined that pride or fear should not hinder me 
from believing or accepting anything God's Spirit might re- 
veal unto me. 

"I began to perceive the completeness of Christ's atone- 
ment. He not only forgave sins and took our infirmities, but 
bare our sicknesses, and 'with His stripes we are healed.' Isa. 
53:5. This revelation was truly wonderful. After debating 
a while, in all humbleness and sincerity, I asked for the faith 
required to be healed, and waited fully several minutes in be- 
wilderment of mind, as no newness of life was experienced. 
Then I was shown that my healing was to be received in the 
same way as the forgiveness of my sins when I gave my heart 



502 Men and Wowen of Deep Piety 

to Christ. First, it must be claimed by faiths and afterward 
the feeling, which evidently had been expected, would follow. 
I then calmly and deliberately claimed a perfect healing. *The 
peace of God which passeth all understanding* entered my 
heart, and a quiet restfulness took possession of me, and with 
a full assurance I began praising Him for a complete restora- 
tion to health. 

**No marvelous change in my physical condition was im- 
mediately experienced, but I was confident my prayer was an- 
swered. I was prompted (a few days later) to test the heal- 
ing which I continually thanked and praised the Lord for. It 
was by stooping over into a certain position, which, since my 
accident, had been impossible to do, even thoughtlessly, with- 
out producing acute pains. I confess I attempted to do so 
rather cautiously, and though so unworthily, I arose, feeling 
satisfied that God had cured me, not only by faith, but by 
feeling. Taking courage, and asking for more faith, I tried it 
again, as only a little soreness was felt the first time, and this 
time even that disappeared, and from that day I have never 
had the slightest sensation of pain in connection with my spine. 
I cannot but give God all the glory. The physician who had 
been attending me for several years, and had made a careful 
study of my complaint, acknowledged in the most candid and 
straightforward manner, most emphatically, that no human 
power could possibly have given me permanent relief without 
an operation, and congratulated me most heartily at what God 
had accomplished. 

"No one excepting those who have similarly suffered can 
really appreciate the iniensit}) of joy which fills my heart with 
loving gratitude at this truly marvelous change. Better far, 
though, than this, I have in proportion received a richer expe- 



Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 503 

' r 

rierxe of God's love, and daily obtain a keener realization and 

perception of its completeness.** 

There were very many interesting cases of reclamation 
w^rought by the power of God through the labors of Mrs. 
Whittemore and her faithful assistants. We wish to call at- 
tention to one, known as Delie, or the Blue-Bird of Mulberry 
Bend. 

Owing to the death of her mother, Delia was reared in a 
convent. At the age of seventeen, bright, unsuspicious, and 
of a very attractive disposition, she entered a city boarding 
house. Shortly afterwards she became much flattered by the 
attentions of a young lawyer. This unscrupulous fellow tri- 
fled with her pure love, deceived her, and finally, crushed and 
broken-hearted, she fled to a distant village, trusting to hide 
away among strangers. A few months of never-to-be-for- 
gotten misery followed. Although conversant with many an 
oft-repeated prayer during her convent life, Delia had never 
actually known the God to whom they had been offered. 
Therefore she had long ceased giving prayer even a chance to 
either comfort or save her. 

Friendless and penniless, she roamed around until, with 
reckless indifl^erence, liquor was resorted to. Before many 
weeks it would have been difficult to have recognized that 
once lovely- faced girl in the haggard, half- frightened creature 
hastening from place to place from fear of arrest. She was 
arrested many times, it usually requiring two policemen to 
manage her. She had become an expert pick-pocket. Fight- 
ing became almost a mania, so that she became a terror, even 
among the roughs with whom she associated. None of her 
associates could outdo her in swearing, drinking or smoking. 
There was hardly a dance hall, gambling den or opium joint 



504 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

in that section of the city, where she now dwelt, that she did 
not frequent, so low had she sunk at the age of twenty-three! 

One sultry night Mrs. Whittemore and some Christian 
workers went down into the lowest slums of New York. Fin- 
ally they entered a sub-cellar in Mulberry Bend. The room 
was crowded with disorderly men and a few women — smok- 
ing, drinking, swearing. The leader of the crowd was none 
other than Delia, with ugly black marks under her eyes, a bad 
cut on the forehead, a scar on her ear, and part of her hair 
plucked out by the roots. The rest of her hair was hanging 
loosely down her back over a dirty blue cotton dress. She 
followed the party up to the street, and offered to pilot them 
into other places. Thinking they might be afraid, she tossed 
her head disdainfully, and said, "Ah, come along, I'm afraid 
of neither man, God or the devil.'* 

For nearly an hour she walked with Mrs. Whittemore, 
from place to place. Their hearts sickened at the vile depths 
to which men and women had sunk, almost losing the distinc- 
tion of being human beings. Mrs. W. used her opportunity 
to plead with Delia to leave her vile life. She replied that 
she could get all she wanted to eat or drink, and if she needed 
money all she had to do was to help herself from those who 
had it. She had yielded to every known sin, she said, and 
there was not. any use to attempt to do differently now. She 
had become perfectly callous to everything — good, bad or in- 
different. 

Mrs. W. carried with her that night a beautiful pink rose 
which someone had given to her. She prayed for Divine di- 
rection, and now felt that this wreck of a girl should receive 
it. "That's all right," said Delia, as she took it with a nod. 
Also, she promised to come to the Florence Crittendon Mission 
on the following night. 



Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 505 

The next evening Mrs. W. waited until nearly eleven 
o'clcck at the appointed place, but Delia did not arrive. Sad 
and prayerful, she returned home, pleading with God to do 
His best to recover the poor soul. 

Meanwhile Delia was unusually sad and depressed. She 
tried to drink it off, but failed. The more she drank the more 
sober she became. Going down into the same sub-cellar, she 
went over to the bottle in which she had placed the pink rose. 
She was about to pin it on her dirty pink dress, when she no- 
ticed it was beginning to wilt, and some of its beautiful petals 
fell to the floor. It seemed but a picture of her own withered 
life, and something seemed to speak almost audibly, "Delia, 
your years are dropping off in sin like the leaves of this rose. 
And the end?'* 

She trembled from head to foot at the awful answer — 
"Hell" — and her body seemed petrified with horror. Sud- 
denly her promise to go up to the mission came to mind. The 
dirty cellar was almost filled with men. Quick as a flash she 
turned abruptly, and said, "Boys, I'm going to leave you to- 
night." Among the clatter of tongues one said, "Say, Bluey's 
going mad! Look at her! Guess she lost too much blood 
in that last row! And where are you going, my girl?" 

"Up to the mission to meet that lady who talked to me 
last night." 

"Well, Bluey, have you got the price?" 

"No." 

"Well, look here. If you're going you shall go like a 
lady. Diving into his pocket, he pulled out a greasy nickel, 
the price of his supper that night, and said cheerfully, "I 
guess I can go without my supper for one night, so that you 
can ride." Then the whole crowd decided to accompany 
Delia to the car. They followed down Mulberry Bend, and 



506 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

as she boarded the car they called out, "Stick to it, old gal!'* 
"God bless you, Bluey!" "Good luck to you. Don't forget 
us, Delia!" "Oh, I'll never forget you!" she shouted back, 
as she waved her heind. 

But it was so late Mrs. W. had gone home. However, 
some friends took her to the Door of Hope, where she was 
tenderly cared for, bathed and dressed in clean clothes. Here 
Mrs. W. found her the next day. She clasped her in her 
warm, motherly arms, and imprinted the first pure, affectionate 
kiss upon her sin-scarred face that she had known for many 
years. Her whole body quivered. Then Mrs. W. and the 
matron knelt beside her, while she sobbed convulsively as they 
prayed. "Oh, I never heard anyone talk to God that way! 
You speak as if you thought He n>as real.'^ With some help, 
she prayed, "God be merciful to me a sinner", and there was 
rejoicing then in the presence of the angels over one more sin- 
ner who repented. She arose with victory in her countenance. 

Two photographs taken of her, one after she was saved 
three months, the other after she was saved about a year, 
show a most marvelous transformation, wrought by Divine 
grace. Hair, features, dress, posture — all told of recovery 
from the depth to a life of pure womanhood and devotion to 
the Redeemer. 

Her physical condition required medical attention and she 
was taken to the hospital. There she testified to many of 
God's mercy to her. When stronger, she and Mrs. W. visited 
again in Mulberry Bend. The motley crowd paid very re- 
spectful attention as they listened to their former companion 
tell how God forgave her past. Blear-eyed, bruised and bat- 
tered, ckthed in filthy tatters, tears trickling down their hard- 
ened faces, they reverently bowed during prayer. 



Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 507 

At Auburn prison she addressed 1 ,500 prisoners. Hav- 
ing lived the same life as they, and addressing them in their 
own vernacular, they were deeply moved. She never became 
haughty or cold-hearted toward the "boys** who had been 
her former chums, and to her dying day she labored for their 
salvation. Many of them came to visit her as she lay in her 
last illness, after being saved for about seventeen months, and 
with every one she talked, and usually prayed fervently that 
they might yield to God, and find a new purpose in living. 

Her funeral was the scene of many tokens of affection, 
and one night after, at the invitation of Mrs. W., nine of those 
rough men made a brave attempt at cleaning up, and made 
their way to the Door of Hope, where Mrs. W. and the ma- 
tron made the evening pleasant for them, and an ample sup- 
per, such as they had not partaken of for many a long day. 
They ate ravenously, then gathered in the sitting-room for a 
Scripture reading, a kind heart-talk and prayer. Coming 
weekly for a while, and bringing others with them, some of 
them truly found the Lord, lived reformed lives, and once 
more found places of respectability in the world. 

Oh, rescue work does pay, as we will view values in Eter- 
nity. Our Lord ate with publicans and sinners, and for it was 
reviled by the Pharisees. 

May the blessed work of the Doors of Hope go on and 
on, even after their devoted founder has gone to her reward! 
Many will rise up and call her blessed, and many rescued 
from the sub-strata of society will welcome her into everlast- 
ing habitations, to hear her Lord say, "Well done, good and 
faithful servant. Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least 
of these, ye did it unto me.** 



WILBERFORCE, THE STATESMAN 



WILLIAM WILBERFORCE was born in Hull in 
1 759. He was a feeble, delicate child, but had a 
vigorous mind and an affectionate temper. His father, who 
was a prosperous, wealthy man, died when he was nine years 
old, and he was placed under the care of an uncle in the 
neighborhood of London. His aunt was a pious woman, who 
loved the preaching and doctrines of such men as Whitefield, 
and taught her little nephew about Jesus Christ. But his 
mother became alarmed by the pious tone of her child's letters, . 
and hastened to London when he was twelve years old to re- 
move him from what she considered a dangerous contagion. 
And all that the theater and ball-room and card-playing could 
do to quench his early piety was resorted to with infatuated 
zeal, and with too much success. At first he resisted. When 
taken to a play, it was almost by force; but, by degrees, he 
acquired a relish for this kind of life. No pious parent ever 
labored more to impress a beloved child with sentiments of 
piety than his relatives did to give him a taste for the world 
and its pleasures. So he tells us himself. And by the time 
he was old enough to go to Cambridge, all thoughts of God 
and of Christ had been driven from his mind. The battle, 
which had been fought on the field of his soul, was decided^r 
to all appearance, in favor of the world, and everything at the 
university tended to confirm the victory. The night of his an- 
rival there, he was introduced to as licentious a set of men as 

508 



William Wilberforce 509 

can well be conceived. They drank hard, he says, and their 
conversation was even worse than their lives. Though happily 
they never succeeded in dragging him into the mire of licen- 
tiousness, he could not, in after life, look back on this period 
without unfeigned remorse. He vy^as only twenty-one years of 
age when he was returned to Parliament, in great triumph, as 
member for his native borough. And now he was thrown 
into a vortex which well-nigh proved his ruin. He became a 
member of all the leading clubs in London, and joined in the 
gambling which the great statesmen of that day indulged in 
without hesitation. 

In 1 784 he went down to York, and was the joy of the 
races. But the eye of mercy followed the young trifler, and 
led him by a way which he knew not. He asked a friend to 
accompany him on a tour to the Continent. This friend well 
understood the doctrines of Christ's Gospel, and had a high 
respect for religion, though, in his own life, he exhibited, at 
that time, none of its influence. Of his religious opinions Wil-- 
berforce knew nothing when he asked him to be the compan- 
ion of his continental tour; and, if he had known, he would 
not have asked him. When luxuriating on the shores of the 
Mediterranean, religious topics were often discussed specula- 
tively, but there was nothing in the life of Wilber force's com- 
panion to give much weight to his reasonings, and the young 
statesman held on his ungodly way unmoved. 

One day, just before their return, Wilberforce took up, 
casually, ''Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the 
Soul,'' which Mr. Unwin, Cowper's friend and correspondent, 
had given to the mother of a fellow-traveler. Casting his eye 
over it hastily, he asked his companion what sort of a book it 
was. "It is one of the best books ever written," was the an- 
swer. "Let us take it with us and read it on our journey." 



510 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

They did so; and he determined, at some future season, to ex- 
amine the Scripture for himself, and see if things were stated 
there in the same manner. There was, as yet, however, no 
conviction of sin. 

The following year, Wilberforce and his traveling com- 
panion returned to Italy, but their conversation became more 
serious than before. They began to read together the Greek 
Testament, and to examine its doctrines. "By degrees,** he 
says, **I began to imbibe my companion's sentiments, though I 
must confess with shame that they long remained merely as 
opinions assented to by my understanding, but not influencing 
my heart. My interest in them certainly increased, and at 
length I began to be impressed with a sense of their import- 
ance.'* At Spa, in Germany, notwithstanding this, he joined 
in all the fashionable amusements of the visitors, but his soul 
was not at ease. "Often," he says, "while in the full enjoy- 
ment of all that this world could bestow, my conscience told 
me that in the true sense of the word I was not a Christian. 
I laughed, I sang, I was apparently gay and happy, but the 
thought would steal across me, 'What madness is all this, to 
continue easy in a state in which a sudden call out of the 
world would consign me to everlasting misery, and that when 
eternal happiness is within my grasp!' " At length such 
thoughts as these completely occupied his mind, and he be- 
gan to pray earnestly. 

"It was not so much,** he said, "the fear of punishment 
by which I was affected as a sense of my great sinfulness, in 
having so long neglected the unspeakable mercies of my God 
and Savior; and such was the effect which this thought pro- 
duced that for months I was in a state of the deepest depres- 
sion from strong convictions of my guilt.*' On the tenth of 
November he returned to his home a new man. His former 



William Wilberforce 511 

life at Wimbledon is separated from that on which he now 
enters by a dark gulf of uitgodliness. But the gulf is crossed, 
and the regenerate man stands on the Rock of Ages. 

But a new trial now awaits him. How will the gay sen- 
ator, who has been courted alike by statesmen and by the 
votaries of fashion, treat the circles in whose pursuits he has 
hitherto taken so deep an interest? Will he be ashamed of 
Jesus? or will he avow himself manfully as on the Lord's side? 
For a time he concealed his new-born feelings, and mixed in 
some measure in uncongenial company. And then he was 
startled by the very possibility of so foul a crime as being 
ashamed of Christ. In the course of a few weeks, however, 
he received grace to make a frank avowal of the change which 
had taken place to those who had been the companions of his 
thoughtlessness. Some treated the announcement as the effect 
of a temporary depression, which social intercourse would soon 
relieve. The great statesman, William Pitt, thought that his 
friend was out of spirits, and hastened to Wimbledon to cheer 
him, and to reason him out of what he considered his fancies. 
But Mr. Wilberforce was prepared to receive him. He had 
looked up, and Divine strength was given him. For two hours 
the man of the world tried to reason the young Christian out 
of his convictions. But in vain. The young Christian was 
steadfast as a rock. He now withdrew his name from all the 
clubs of which he was a member, and sought the friendship 
of those that feared the Lord. He seemed to himself, as he 
expressed it ten years after, to have awakened from a dream, 
to have recovered, as it were, the use of his reason after a de- 
lirium. And how thoroughly he was awakened and restored 
to a truly sound mind appears from the nearly fifty years 
which, from this period, he devoted to the glory of God and 
^he good of man. The love of Christ was from this date his 



512 Men and Women of Deep Piety 

talisman, to use his own words. It was this that made him 
the champion of freedom and the friend of the slave. And 
we now set him before you as a witness for Christ, to stimu- 
late you to enter on the Christian race, and to persevere in it. 
Within two months of his death he was consulted by a young 
friend as to what profession he should choose. His reply 
was: *'Think particularly whether you are choosing for time 
only, or for eternity, for, of course, a sensible man will wish 
to choose that which will be best on the long run. And then it 
is just as much part of the consideration, what will be best for 
me between my thousandth and two-thousandth year, as be- 
tween my twentieth and thirtieth." Think of his, young reader. 
Be not so near-sighted as to fix your exclusive regard on that 
portion of your life which lies between this hour and the grave. 
Look into the future. A thousand years, ten thousand years 
hence, you will live as much as you do now. Yea, by that 
time your power of life, your capacity of misery and enjoy- 
ment, will be immensely expanded. 

Wilber force did not regret, in his dying hour, that the last 
forty-eight years of his life were spent in the service of Christ. 

His noblest monument is not that in Westminster Abbey, 
nor yet his great achievement in the abolition of the slave- 
trade, but the example he has left of the power of evangelical 
truth, and of the practical energy of evanglical love. 



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